


Me, Myself, and That Stranger

by RaspberryBrain



Series: Never Crush on a Luthor [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, Foe Yay, Healing, Identity Porn, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Secret Identity, Self Confidence Issues, Time Travel, mentions of past sexual abuse, super powers acting up, unethical actions by characters we love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-01-29 06:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12625629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryBrain/pseuds/RaspberryBrain
Summary: Kon’s got baggage. So does Tim Luthor. This Red Robin guy might have more though.Aren't love triangles just better with time travel?





	1. Kon is Being Sneaky

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tim Luthor: An Oral Not!Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/331908) by [bessyboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessyboo/pseuds/bessyboo), [moonling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonling/pseuds/moonling). 
  * Inspired by [Pilot: Pendulum](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294565) by [Vodka112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodka112/pseuds/Vodka112). 



> I’ve taken some serious liberties with how Kryptonite works, but so has DC, so I feel okay about that.
> 
> This chapter is rated ‘teen’. A few chapters in will crank it up to an ‘explicit’ rating though.
> 
> Warnings: I may have made Tim an asshole. He does some actually reprehensible stuff, but I’m not sure where it fits on a scale of ‘sure, it’s superhero foe-yay’ to ‘No, this is real life and that shit is not okay.’ Let me know what you think, especially if it seems relevant to real life, cuuuuz I’m actually an alien who wants to blend into human society and glasses are not enough.

Kon was doing some completely normal recon on Luthor Tower before school. Just because he’d never done it before didn’t mean it wasn’t normal. Honestly, he should have been doing it for a long time. Tim was such a normal friggn’ guy at school, well, except for the mega-genius bit, and the mega-rich bit, and the mega-snarky bit. Then whenever he ran into him on Superboy duty, he was a complete goddamned psychopath. A little bit of spying to fill in the gaps could probably be really useful. 

 

Plus, he was getting practice flying around security camera arcs (with which intermittent x-ray vision didn’t hurt) and hovering behind load-bearing pillars and stuff. There were stupidly few places to hide at the penthouse level (or, wait. smartly few?). Luthor (the bald one) really liked his windows and skyline views. Kon guessed it was really a give and take: Tiny little places to hide, but, he could poke his head around and see almost the entire apartment, which was saying something considering it’s size. 

 

He’d briefly seen Luthor Sr. brushing his teeth in one of the bathrooms, but he flitted away from that scene pretty fast. It was almost as weird as finding out Luthor Jr. was a math tutor. One of the scary bodyguard women was in the kitchen, her short hair wrapped up in a towel like Lois wore it sometimes. She was doing something with a blender and what Kon was almost certain was kale when Tim walked in. No wonder the guy was always getting Kon to sneak out for gas station junk food with him. Tim’s hair was wet too, but he was in his school clothes with his old man cardigan he’d been wearing since the weather started to go chilly. It was sort of cute. He went to the cupboard to reach for a coffee mug, standing on his toes for a second because he was a tiny little criminal mastermind. The woman shifted her weight very slightly.

 

Kon literally almost went Kool-Aid Man on the expensive windows when she _tackled_ Tim. The only thing that stopped him was Luthor Sr. walking in and sighing like a man who’d given up. “Isn’t an hour of sparring enough for before breakfast?”

 

“Not if I can still surprise him.” The bodyguard deadpanned. She’d gotten Tim pinned to the floor, which was really friggn’ weird and a little disturbing seeing as he regularly out-ninja’d  _Superboy_. It was also sort of hot… On second thought, make that completely and totally disturbing. Kon was past admitting he was a little bit into Tim. That ship had sailed a good few weeks ago, but that was as weird as he’d let himself get. Seriously, Kon had been less squicked by make-out sessions with shapeshifters than he was when he caught himself wanting to hang around Tim. Wanting to hang around Tim and his _bodyguard_ ** _to_** would break the universe.

 

Tim, still pinned to the floor, looked up at his mentor. “She’s right.” He held up the mug to the end of his range of motion (which was about 2 inches). “And look, I protected the principal.”

 

“That was very well done.” His attacker admitted. “It didn’t even touch the floor.” 

 

Tim grinned a tiny little, pleased grin. “Well, the floor _is_ lava. Can I get up now?”

 

“No. If you want it, you’ve got to figure out how to get it.” Kon felt a vague sense of dejavu. He just knew his face was turning red.

 

Tim was trying to break the woman’s hold with a few techniques Kon was pretty sure UFC fighters would wince at. Luther stepped over them to get his own coffee together. “You two realize that we have bodyguards so that we _don’t_ need to participate in physical altercations, correct? Specialization is one of the industrialized world’s biggest advantages.”

 

“Assistance can’t always reach me in time.” Tim panted, still holding the mug away from the floor. 

 

“They wouldn’t need to reach you if you didn’t keep running off on your own. Keep some Kryptonite and a bodyguard around and you’ll be able to devote your time to things only you can do.” Luthor took a stool a few feet away from the brawl on the floor and opened up a news feed on the counter, which was apparently a giant friggn’ interactive tablet or something.

 

Tim made an annoyed face. “It’s part of the plan. A broad range of skills compound.” He did something inhumanly flexible with his shoulder blade and ended up on top for a moment. “You make it sound like I don’t have a plan. I resent that. It’s slander, Lex.” His bodyguard put him in some sort of headlock and Tim’s short success was over.

 

“Mm-hm. I’m sure you think you do. Speaking of which, do you expect any issues with the artifact tonight?”

 

“…”

 

“Mercy, let him up. It’s impossible to carry on a conversation like this.” She did. Kon was starting to wonder if Tim would ever get away. Apparently, he wasn’t actually the world’s most ninja non-meta. Surprises everywhere. 

 

Tim caught his breath, finally filling his coffee mug and took the stool next to Luthor Sr. “Superman should still be away with the justice league. Even they can’t resolve an interplanetary war in less than a few days. Supergirl and Superboy are always in town though, so we’ll have to keep our noise level a few decibels below background traffic.”

 

“That shouldn’t be hard once you’re actually in the building. It looks old but it has some of the best soundproofings this side of Orfield.”

 

Tim’s face scrunched up just a little. “You can’t hear your own heartbeat in this one, right?” Kon could hear Tim’s heartbeat right now. It was a little louder than most with him being so thin and had slowed back to resting after grappling with Mercy pretty fast, but other than that it was just a normal, human heartbeat.

 

“Not above the machinery, no.”

 

“Good, I hate that sound.”

 

There was a heavy sort of pause before Luthor spoke. “Tim, I wish we could turn off the monitors.”

 

“I know.” Tim rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

 

This conversation had gotten stupidly cryptic. The one thing Kon could gather for sure was that both Luthors were ashamed of whatever it was. They weren’t looking at each other, just awkwardly pretending to drink their respective coffees. What the hell could make people like them look like that?

 

 

* * *

 

 

After school, Kon got to the library before his tutor, as usual. The first few times it had happened, Kon just kept getting more and more nervous, expecting some kind of trap. He’d thought of the precision wrath a kevlar clad Luthor Jr. radiated and had just _known_ he wouldn’t be late for no reason. Eventually, he started to get used to the idea of _that_ Tim being just as much a mask as anyone in the community wore. It was true, and it was him, but it wasn’t all of him. If Tim Luthor had put as much focus into school as he had with his villainous activities, he’d be teaching grad school by now. As it was, he did slightly above average while falling asleep in his AP classes and being consistently late to tutor Kon.

 

There was a weird mix of annoyance, respect, and straight up jealousy there. Kon sometimes felt like he’d die to not feel so stupid, but Tim was _so_ not stupid that it actually seemed to make life sort of suck for him. He was bored all the time, apathetic, not even really making friends. If someone had tried to tell him that being board was as bad as being confused before he’d met Tim, Kon would have friggn’ walked out of that conversation. Now, it felt very true. It sort of made him sad.

 

“What’s wrong?” Tim’s voice came from right next to him. 

 

Kon jumped knocking his knee against the table. “ _When_ did you get there?” 

 

Tim blinked. “Right… now?” He took the chair next to Kon and started pulling his tutoring materials from his bag. “Where’s your stuff?”

 

Kon shrugged. “I forgot my backpack this morning,” because he’d been too busy spying on Luthor Tower. 

 

“That’s fine. I’ve got two of everything.” Tim passed a mechanical pencil and the legal pad he always had Kon use. It already had a ton of problems inked out in Tim’s neat writing. There were paperclips sticking to the metal bits of the pencil and to Tim’s water bottle. Tim frowned. “I think this building is in a magnetic field anomaly.”

 

“Really? What’s that mean?” Kon asked a little concerned. 

 

“In this case, it means my lab partner dropped a handful of magnets into my bag and I haven’t found them all yet.” Kon snickered. Bested by a bodyguard and a high schooler. This was not turning out to be a ninja-kinda day for Tim Luthor.

 

Kon noticed a red mark on the back of Tim’s neck while he was rummaging for the offending magnets. It was almost definitely from the scuffle with Mercy this morning. Kon could probably pick out the exact moment it’d happened but… accuracy wasn’t any fun and he wouldn’t mind postponing math a minute. “Dude! Is that a hickey?” 

 

Tim’s eyes widened in genuine surprise and he clapped a hand to the spot Kon was pointing at. “What?” 

 

Kon let out a dramatic gasp. “It totally is! What happened to ‘dating’s not interesting’?” 

 

Tim rolled his eyes, cool attitude back in place. “It’s a bruise. There’s a difference.” Kon looked over his Conner Kent glasses at Tim with a raised eyebrow (basically the only cool thing he could do with them). Tim sort of… pouted… less ironically than usual. “Conner, I’d _tell_ you if I was seeing someone. You wouldn’t have to figure it out.”

 

Kon’s heart sort of skipped a beat for some reason. “Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. You’re like, my best friend or something cheesy like that.” Tim said this in the most nonchalant way possible. He was looking through his bag again, voice trailing off like he’d stopped paying attention to what he was saying. That was… not expected. Kon had sort of felt like Conner Kent was just work for Tim, boring, annoying work. Not to mention Superboy, which for a while there, he’d been convinced Tim could smell on him or something. 

 

“I’m glad.” 

 

Tim looked up. “Huh?”

 

“Nothing!” Kon swiveled to his math problems. 

 

Tim laughed a little. “I’m kidding. I’m glad you’re glad.” 

 

Tim was such a dick. Kon told himself to stop smiling… unsuccessfully.

 

* * *

 

 

Kon was taking Luthor Sr.’s “tonight” as after nightfall, so he had some time after Kara picked him up from school. The pick up really was just that. They met up at the main entrance, walked around the corner with Kara bubbling Kryptonian the whole way (She'd been trying to teach Kon, but his head was full of algebra, so yeah. Not happening). The minute they were out of sight, she thumped Kon on the shoulder amiably and they both flew off in different directions. Superboy didn’t actually need a chaperone, and Kara had a day job after all.

 

He got home and walked Krypto even though Lois wasn’t here to get angry about it and Clark wasn’t around to tattle to her. At this point, it was just habit. Plus, it made Krypto happy and that was just nice. He ate half a pizza on his own while watching crap television. He did _not_ pick his civvies off the floor after he changed into Superboy because Lois wouldn’t see them, Clark wouldn’t tell her, and Krypto didn’t give a shit. That worked nicely for him.

 

He took off from his bedroom window and started doing figure eights around Metropolis as the sun set. It was getting dark earlier now, a bit of that fall crispness in the air. Kon liked it. It made everything feel faster and sharper. After about a lap and a half, he found a mugging to stop and a kitten to save from its own hubris in climbing a friggn’ telephone pole. Take that feline-kind. After that, he didn’t exactly slow down, but he extended his senses. He watched for groups of people that might be guarding something and opened his attention to every sound he heard. By loop four, he felt he had a pretty good sample of Friday night noise. Now it was time for the hard part. He tried to turn the map of sounds inside out; hear where there wasn’t noise. It did not work.

 

He floated up, below typical jet hight but above most of the skyscrapers, and closed his eyes. He firmed his TTK around himself to block out the wind and chill, however nice it was, so that he couldn’t feel much of anything. He remembered all of Tim’s scars and surgical pins. He probably had little aches all the time that couldn’t be blocked out. This is something that couldn’t work for him… aside from the lack of TTK that is. The only sense left to him now was sound, like the static under a recording from this far away. 

 

He stayed that high for an hour or so, getting pretty annoyed on and off. The idea of giving up and just hanging out with Krypto for the rest of the night surfaced a few times. Whenever it did though, something in him pushed back. If he could find Luthor’s soundproof hiding place without Clark, or Kara, or Lois, without anything but his own ability… Apparently, he needed to prove something to himself. It was sort of lame, but doing something for a pathetic reason was better than doing nothing. Probably. He stopped asking himself cringeworthy questions and started to almost fall asleep there below the vapor trails of Metropolis’s air traffic and the darkening sky. And that’s when he heard it, the place with no noise at all. He opened his eyes and flew.

 

It was in the warehouse district. Of course. Weird how often flashy Luthor stuff was happening in dusty places next to all the other little crimes. Kon chuckles to himself imagining a _LexCorp_ employee in one of their crazy secure labs sneaking paperclips and coffee filters from the evil geniuses. There weren’t guards outside because that would be weird, something to notice about the place. There were almost definitely hidden methods of surveillance though. Kon was feeling pretty good about getting to the roof without anyone seeming to notice but there was also that bit of nervousness in the back of his head that always came with the name ‘Luthor’. He’d had so many false successes leading to traps and outright failures that it was sort of inevitable at this point. Kon had quasi-landed, still hovering a few inches, near a roof access door locked from the inside. If it was _just_ locked, Kon could get it open quickly and quietly with his TTK. If it was alarmed or booby-trapped in some way things might get more difficult. 

 

He scanned the ground around him, trying to x-ray it for pressure sensitive panels or bear traps or whatever. His vision stayed completely normal because this would be a _useful_ time to have it instead of an _embarrassing_ time. If it was possible to glare at one’s own eyes, Kon would so be doing that right now. X-ray vision worked just fine when he was trying to look like a totally non-powered Conner Kent and Tim was doing harmless school stuff. Kon kept having to look away super goddamned awkwardly whenever Tim stretched or – Kon’s x-ray vision flipped on. Alright then. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth or whatever. 

 

The gravel roof was just that, no extra spy stuff, so Kon landed. The see-through bits of the world were all nearby things and Kon couldn’t get the effect to extend through the roof. He didn’t really have… what did Clark call it? Depth of field control? He didn’t have it. Yet. So he turned his attention to the roof access door, which was thin enough that the close range x-ray vision could get through it. There was a little box the size of a flash drive crossing from the door frame to the door itself. Kon floated up a little to get a better cross-section. It was split in half, presumably so the door could open without breaking it. One end had some stuff like what was in his phone (maybe a transmitter?), and some paper thin metal plates bowed to one side. The other end was a solid metal chunk in plastic casing. That stumped Kon for a minute until he got a little memory flash of Tim earlier that day, trying to brush a clump of paperclips off his metallic water bottle. The hunk of metal was a magnet. Those bowed plates were bowed because it was sucking them together with its mysterious magnet powers. He put a finger out to lightly brush the door and extend his TTK through it into the flash drive thing. There was definitely some strain on the plates. He bet if the magnet stopped pulling them, they would do something to the transmitter and stealthiness would be at an end. Or maybe he was completely wrong. If anyone had to describe him, ‘smart’ and ‘subtle’ probably wouldn’t be the words they’d choose.

 

Had to try something though. Kon’s TTK held the little plates together inside their casing and reached out a second bit of attention. He actually had a fair amount of practice opening his locker without remembering the combination, and that thing had three tumblers. Unlocking this wear house door from inside the mechanism was pretty easy. It would have been satisfying to hear a click when the door opened, but that would have meant he’d failed with his stealthiness. Oh well. He stepped in, trailing a finger along the door to keep in contact and keep the plates held back from setting off the alarm (or poison gas. You never knew with Luthors). He gently pulled the door back into place, re-locking it and taking his telekinetic fingers off the plates. No one would be able to tell the door was ever moved. Tim would be so fuckin’ proud… or not. Kon winced. Because he was sort of breaking into Tim’s evil plan right now and the guy wasn’t teaching Conner Kent math and logic stuff to help Superboy ruin all his plans… but that was beside the point since Tim should just not _have_ evil plans at all.

 

He turned around ready to do something stealthy and took a startled step back. “Damn…” The walls and ceiling were covered with spikes the length of Kon’s forearm, or maybe more like wedges. They looked threatening in the Luthor-filled context but were also just sitting there. Kon leaned close to one protrusion. It sort of looked like that super thick foam Lois’s travel pillow was made of. The real question was of course, whether or not to poke it. It could totally set off some sort of trap that he’d avoided with all his smart TTK and x-ray vision. On the other hand, how could anyone come across this thing and _not_ poke it? Kon took the tactical course of action and decided that he would poke it after he’d thwarted today’s evil plan. Compromise, it was a thing he was great at.

 

After he’d already gone down a flight, he noticed that although the stairs were industrial metallic things they weren’t ringing out with each step to reveal his location. He grimaced at himself forgetting to be quiet. It was okay though. Landing on each step made a flat little sound that almost immediately dissipated. It must be the soundproofing Luthor Sr. was drooling over that morning. Kon took another look at the mountainous wall fixtures. They could be distant cousins of the acoustic paneling in recording studios. Giant, pointy cousins.

 

Approaching ground level he cautiously turned the corner… and collapsed when something landed on his back with the weight of Kryptonite behind it. “Hello, Superboy.” Tim’s voice came from the same direction as the blinding green pain. Had he seriously been lurking on top of the doorframe? “Thank you for testing my telekinesis recognition algorithm. I’ve got to ask, how noticeable were the nanites? They’re a new formula that just sprays onto the surface. Very cheque.”

 

“F-fuck you.” Kon gasped. Nanites? He hadn’t felt anything he wouldn’t expect from the warehouse district’s lead paint. Would Clark have been able to tell? 

 

“Well, that sounds like a success to me.” Tim stood and kicked Kon over onto his back. Tim was _such_ a bastard. God, he was wearing that same cardigan from school over his bulletproof tack-gear too…

 

“Now for the serious part.” He dropped his Kryptonite ring onto the S right over Kon’s heart. It bounced like the light little object it was, hurting more with each tiny impact. “How did you find out about this place?” Kon didn’t answer, too busy trying to swallow through the pain. Tim knelt and lifted the ring a few inches off Kon’s chest, which was apparently enough for his vocal cords to be usable again if not particularly coherent. 

 

“Answer me.”

 

“Read it.” Tim raised an eyebrow a millimeter. “…In –” He gasped. “… A fortune cookie.” 

 

A muscle under Tim’s eye twitches. His voice is almost light though, “Have it your way.” He dropped the ring back onto Kon, knocking the wind out of him.

 

Tim beckoned one of his goons with a single inflexible gesture. “Keep the Kryptonite on him and you shouldn’t have to do anything exigent.” Then he just walked away. Tim was leaving Superboy on the ground with one guard and a pebble to keep the hero down. He thought he could just go about his evil plan without any more interruption, that Kon wouldn’t – couldn’t – do a thing to stop him. He was right. Kon had wanted to do this on his own for his stupid, pathetic ego. There was no one else coming, no Clark or Lois to notice he wasn’t home, no intel left for a friend in spandex. Kon had messed up in more ways than one.

 

Fuck. It was going to be really hard to look Tim in the eye Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I finally started reformatting the dialogue! Commenters always rule. Commenters who give me formatting/grammar advice super-rule XD


	2. Kon’s not Feeling Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the frying pan into the… Kon has no idea actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Graphic violence, consent issues which aren’t really addressed in this chapter but will be soon. 
> 
> This chapter is rated "Teen".

Kon could swear this getting captured thing hadn’t happened so much when he was on his own. Of course, he hadn’t been dealing with Luthors back then. That probably did his odds some favors. 

 

Tim was in the center of the open warehouse being all Luthor Jr. and ordering goons to do things. He was all lit up by a circle of spotlights, casting diverging shadows. It was sort of hard to watch with the contrast. The shallow breaths Kon could draw with the Kryptonite weighing him down weren’t enough to keep little black dots out of his vision, and that wasn't helping either. He thought there was something at Tim’s feet, hopefully not a body. Tim knelt next to the indistinct thing, poking it in a sciencey way with different tools. Kon really hoped it wasn’t a body.

 

Kon let his head fall to the side. It _hurt_ when it hit the concrete floor because he wasn’t actually invulnerable at the moment. He tried to swear but it came out more like a vocal spasm than anything intentional. There was a scuffing sound a few feet away. “Uh… Mr. Luthor?” It was the one, singular guard Tim had left him with. Apparently, Kon didn’t even rank for one of the mercenaries that sounded tough. “He doesn’t look so good. What do I do?”

“Do not remove the Kryptonite.” Tim sounded like he was barely paying attention, which bruised Kon’s ego along with everything else. 

 

“O-okay… Imeanyessir!” 

 

Kon could feel the man’s eyes on him then, like laying there in his own misery hadn’t been enough. Another mercenary was there too, whispering in a light feminine voice. When had she gotten there? “Micky, I swear to god, if you don’t get your shit together you’re going to get black bagged and then _I’m_ going to get black bagged for recommending you to this job in the first place.”

“I _know_. I’m sorry…” Wow, this guy sounded winey. “But Karen–“

 

Kon opened his eyes trying to focus on their faces. He wanted to recognize these two idiots if he ever saw them again. His eyes didn’t track to them though. They caught on some small motion in the black foam covered rafters beyond them. Did this place have bats? 

 

“No! No ‘buts’! You’re supposed to be a highly trained mercenary!”

 

“I _am._ ”

 

“You’re not goddamn acting like it!”

 

“Karen, what if he _dies_? What if we’re the ones who stood around and watched Superman’s kid bite it?”

 

‘ _Not his kid,’_ Kon wanted to correct, _‘I’m not anyone’s kid…’_ He wasn’t going to argue with the bit about dying though. That felt like a pretty realistic concern at this point. 

 

Karen was looking at him now too. “Shit.” She said sounding a bit nervous herself. “What if we just –“

 

A guard across the room screamed. Micky and Karen whipped around to look, automatic rifles pointing steadily in the direction of the disturbance. They looked much more professional all of the sudden. Kon could vaguely see Tim still working, having barely paused to assess the danger. “Miller?” Micky asked. Karen nodded. A few of the guards closer to their downed teammate started shuffling, bent-kneed toward him the way that people with big guns and a lot of training do. 

 

Karen breathed a curse. “I don’t see Lloyd or Pack either.” 

 

A shudder of gunfire came from the east, behind the guards who had been focused on Miller. Before Kon could turn his head to the sound something hit a spotlight, knocking it into another and another. With the scrapping sounds of their metal legs, it was like the loudest, brightest line of dominoes ever. Some of their cords snapped away from their power sources. Some bulbs broke on impact. The remaining lights were angled strangely from the floor, making shadows alien and confusing the space. Tim was there in the middle of it, shielding whatever he’d been working on from any debris with his own body. He looked so small like that. Kon tried to reach out to him. The pain that shot down his arm from the Kryptonite holding him to the floor reminded him not to feel too bad if Luthor Jr. got a booboo from his evil plan being interrupted. 

 

“How many hostiles?!” someone shouted to no answer. There was a thud of another armored body hitting the ground. Then another. There was a slight whistle in the air and Karen choked, falling to her knees. A figure was there as she fell, pulling the AK from her hands. He didn’t point it at Micky, or Kon. He flipped the safety on and tossed it to the floor, away from either of the guards. Micky moved to strike the man, his gun being too long for close quarters. The man caught Micky’s arm and instead of stopping it, pulled, stepping to the side. He relieved him of his weapon as he was falling to the ground. 

 

There was a moment of stillness, without even the sound of Tim’s tools or groaning mercenaries. “Take your friend and get out of here.” The man’s voice was quiet but solid. It was a little terrifying. “Get a job where you don’t have to watch _anyone’s_ kid die.” Micky stared for a moment. Karen too, although she was wincing more than him. “Now.” Micky stumbled to his feet grabbed Karen’s arm and ran.

 

Kon did not blame him. The figure standing over him seemed to be the only fully conscious person left in the room. Turned out, there was only one ‘hostile’ and he took out the entire team of LexCorp mercenaries in something like a minute. Kon kind of wanted to run too.

 

He knelt at Kon’s side where Tim had been earlier in a weird bit of déjà vu. He picked the Kryptonite ring off of Kon’s chest and quarantined it away behind his cape. It must have been in a lead-lined pocket or something because the pain that little chunk of rock had radiated turned off like a light. Kon gasped in his first real breath in what felt like hours. His muscles untensed and it hurt after being so tight for so long. He lost a moment to the sensation, nerves flicking from code red to shocking relief. He felt like a rebooting computer. The hard line of the man’s lips – the only bit of expression Kon could pull from his mostly covered face – softened. 

 

Kon sort of felt like sobbing with the reprieve from pain. Then it occurred to him that a stranger had just gained some Kryptonite. A stranger who knew to put it in a lead-lined container to alleviate its effects on a Kryptonian. Oh boy.

 

The man was touching his face, which… there was no reason to do that. There was no reason for the guy to stroke Kon’s cheek like he was petting a cat. He was murmuring something too. “-s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.” _‘I’m here now’_? Was that just the white night complex so many vigilantes had or did this guy know him somehow? Kon focused on the man’s face. His eyes were hidden by emotionless opaque lenses. An incongruously sweet little smile spread under a sharply pointed cowl. “Hey.” the man said, sounding like Clark and Lois sometimes did when they didn’t actually have anything to say but just want to gaze at each other being disgustingly in love. 

 

The man slid a gloved hand under Kon’s neck, thumb rubbing gently at the space behind his jaw. The spark of pleasant sensation after so much of the opposite made a shiver run through him. The man leaned in until Kon couldn’t focus on him anymore and… kissed him, full on the mouth. He pulled Kon’s bottom lip in between his own in a way that was really soft for a guy who could fight like _that_. The man turned his head and Kon knew this part. He opened his mouth to let the man lick inside, which felt _really_ nice. The point on that cowl tickled his cheek which made him want to laugh, but his mouth was busy doing more important things. His hand sort of made it’s way up to a firm bicep and just held on, not having the energy for much else. He already knew the guy was skilled and strong (beating the shit out of a LexCorp SWAT team strong) but exactly how hot that was hadn’t really been the first thing on his mind a minute ago. A hard-on directly after Kryptonite exposure was probably impossible, which was a relief since Tim was still over there in the center of the warehouse… Tim was still over there. Kon made a panicked sound and tried to push the excellent kisser away, but he’d already moved to asses Kon’s expression, something about that mouth looking worried.

 

They both heard the movement at the same time. The man caught the pipe Tim had swung before it connected with his head. Tim kept hold of his weapon using the momentum of the stopped swing to pivot, a knee aiming for the man’s face. Kon saw a murder mystery show a few years ago where a man died like that, bits of his skull cutting through his brain from a blunt impact. The man ducked before Kon could do anything, bending backward like he was made of rubber. Tim couldn’t compensate in time and ended up on the floor in a failed roll, his pipe clattering out of reach. They both lunged, but the man was faster, bigger, and apparently more ninja. He threw Tim down again, clearly knocking the breath out of him. Tim flinched when the man grabbed his wrists. “Don’t you dare –“ The man had a couple of plastic zip strips like the ones Robin used sometimes. He yanked Tim’s arms together behind his back to tie at the wrists and again at the elbows over his stupid cardigan sleeves. Kon winced. If he didn’t know how flexible Tim was, he’d think something in there had been dislocated.

 

The man pulled Tim around to face him. “What are _you_ doing here?” When he’d been talking to the mercenaries he’d sounded emotionless and solid. Talking to Tim – hissing that question like an accusation at Tim – he sounded terrifyingly angry. 

 

Tim’s glare was just as sharp as the man’s voice. “I’m here carrying out an investigation for a man more powerful than the United States government. He’ll have an army knocking down the doors in eighty seconds, so don’t you dare _touch_ him again.”

 

‘Don’t touch him’? He sounded _morally outraged,_ the little hypocrite. What happened to ignoring him writhing in pain? The man holding Tim down seemed confused too. His voice lost its fury. “Excuse me?”

 

“You can surprise a team of trainees, but no one– “

 

“No.” The man interrupted in that new, less terrifying voice. “I believe you on the army in seventy-two seconds thing, but why are you so concerned about him kissing someone?”

 

“ _He_ didn’t.” Tim’s voice is angry in a way Kon doesn’t think he’s ever heard. “Anyone could see he’s in no state to give consent.” On that last multisyllabic word, Tim’s leg shot out, catching the man in the side. “Don’t _pretend_ you’re not a fucking predator!” Kon could see the force travel through the man’s body but it barely moved him. Tim was pulling back for another attack when the man jabbed him in the neck. Tim went limp immediately and completely.

 

“You okay?” The man asked, getting to his feet. 

 

“Y-yeah?” Kon answered without parsing the question. “What did you just do to him?”

 

“He’s fine. I’ll be back in twenty seconds.” The man walked off to where Tim had been doing science stuff and started digging through that thing Kon was still really hoping wasn’t a dead body. Okay then. Lots of leaving Kon on the floor today.

 

Muscles complaining, he rolled onto his side to see Tim more clearly where he lay a few feet to Kon’s left. “Uh… Luthor?” No reaction. Kon started to push himself up, but shit, he was heavy and his TTK and flight weren’t back on yet. He friggin’ crawls over to Tim. It’s absolutely pathetic, but he’s not going to leave someone hurt just because he doesn’t want to get up… or because that particular person was an asshole who poisoned him an hour ago. He held his middle and pointer fingers to Tim’s neck, right under his jaw like Clark had taught him when they were doing all that first aid shit. Kon was glad they’d bothered with the human way to check because he couldn’t hear much at all right now, and feeling Tim’s pulse going just as steady as ever was a reassurance.

 

“Can you walk?” Kon started at the man’s voice. He wasn’t even behind Kon. He’d somehow managed to sneak up on him from the _front_. Kon looked at the guy who’d just saved him. He looked at Tim’s unconscious face, the collar of his LexCorp tack vest poking out from under his cardigan. He nodded. Maybe he could walk? He could breathe fine since the Kryptonite was out of the picture, but his legs weren’t really going where he wanted them to and he was still a bit shaky all over. The man pulled him to stand with one arm and then ducked down to put his other under Kon’s knees. Kon’s head spun with the unexpected speed. 

 

“Let me rephrase: He hit a panic button. We have  forty-four seconds to get out of here before that army shows up.” He cradled Kon to his chest, like the helpless heroine of a romance novel cover. 

 

“Hey!” Kon protested blushing like… not at all like that romance heroine. This may have actually been the _most_ humiliating thing that had happened to him today (which was saying a lot), but he had to admit there was also no way he could keep up under his own power. Kon felt less and less dignified as he realized, the guy wasn’t big but he didn’t strain at all with Kon’s weight. Holding him seemed effortless even when he picked up his speed. Didn’t trip on his way out the building either. One of the exterior doors was stuck open, probably from Kon’s two guards running out earlier.

 

There was a car parked in a nearby alleyway. It was in shadows but it looked like… an old Honda civic. Okay then. The guy set him on his feet, letting him use the trunk for balance. “You okay?”

 

“Uh…” how to answer that with his legs not totally working and his vision unfocusing every few seconds… The pounding sound of helicopter blades close by gave him an excuse not to answer. Must be installment number one of seal team Luthor. 

 

The man pulled off his cape and – was Kon about to see shirtless ninja? He could work with that. He could definitely work with that. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. Kon reminded himself that sexy time was not a good plan when he could hear Luthor gunmen a block away. “Here.” The man pulled his cape around Kon like a blanket, which as vulnerable to the chill night as he was right then felt like a really good idea. “Keep the S covered.” The man stepped out of Kon’s personal space to unlock the car’s front door. He ducked into the car and came out with a beanie and sunglasses instead of a cowl. That plus a ragged hoodie over the remains of his uniform made a pretty good civvi simulation. He looked a lot younger like that. 

 

“You wear your sunglasses at night, huh?” The guy smiled vaguely. It was actually slightly creepy even without the cowl.

 

The guy vaulted over the hood of his car to mess with the passenger side lock. “Wait.” Kon was suddenly reminded that just because someone didn’t like Luthors didn’t mean they were a superhero. “Are you picking that lock?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Did you just steal this car?” And the clothes he was wearing? 

 

“No.” Well, he wasn’t sure he believed him but – “I stole the car yesterday. Not a whole lot of ways to get around when you've freshly arrived in a time-stream you don’t exist in.”

 

There was a heavy pause, at least on Kon’s end. The stranger was going about unlocking the car like he hadn’t just said something crazy-balls. Not that Kon had a lot of room to judge origin stories but… The probability of someone having an insane life verses schizophrenia wasn’t in this guy’s favor. Arkham _existed_ and that was enough of a reason to be careful. Was it time to back away slowly and hope he didn’t notice? The door clicked open. 

 

“Dude, you can’t _do_ that. I can’t let you just steal a bunch of stuff.” Kon didn’t have a lot of practice backing away from things. He’d try for self-preservation next time. 

 

“You don’t really seem to be in a position to stop me.” The guy said mildly. Kon decided he did not like this guy, no matter how good a kisser he – fuck, he’d kissed this crazy piece of shit! 

 

“You got a place to stay?”

 

“I’m not telling _you_ that.” The guy shrugged. 

 

“Fine. In my timeline, there would be a safe house pretty close. We can see if it’s here too.”

 

“I’m not going back to your house with you.” 

 

The guy looked him up and down. “I’m not leaving you alone in an alleyway coming down from Kryptonite poisoning. You have two options. Pick one.” Kon glared at him. He had three options, thank you very much:

 

  1. Reveal where Clark and Lois lived.
  2. Fight someone currently much stronger than him for the right to collapse in a garbage ally near a very angry Luthor who had already beat the shit out of him once tonight.
  3. Go home with the crazy guy which might take long enough for his powers to come back online.



 

Number three actually seemed to be the least shit option. “Fine. We’ll go to your imaginary safe house.”

 

“Cool.” The man smiled lightly and opened the passenger door for Kon like a fancy chauffeur. Kon got in, not limping all that much really. He winced at the click of the latch closing. He really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness was it confusing to write two Tims in one room!
> 
> Also, anyone know what that way SWAT teams walk sort of crouched (on TV anyway) is called? I had no idea what search terms to use to figure it out.


	3. Tim Made at least one Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t like Tim had never been knocked out before. Being rendered unconscious twice within nine minutes by a single cowled assailant was a new low though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This makes some references to the previous installment in this series, More Data Points Needed. I hope you don’t have to read it to enjoy this, but if you are wondering how something was established, the answer is probably there.
> 
> Warnings: Lots of negative self-talk, but we know to expect that from Tim, right? Also lots of negative talk about others, but we know to expect that from a Luthor, right?
> 
> This chapter is rated "Teen".

It wasn’t like Tim had never been knocked out before. He’d probably had more concussions than ninety percent of his age group. An article from last month’s   _New England Journal of Medicine_ flashed briefly behind his closed eyelids. Eighty-seven percent, he corrected himself. He was used to getting hurt, training with Mercy or in the field. Being rendered unconscious twice within nine minutes was a new low though.

 

He felt for the call button that Dr. Wada would have left him. A gentle pressure on the back of his hand stopped him. 

 

“Lex?” 

 

“Yes.” Of course, Lex would be there. He’d want to make sure his friend was alright, to be there when he woke up even if someone important had to be told to wait. Tim wondered if he’d ever stop being surprised by that. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine.” He would have bruises all along his back and arms from the falling spotlights. Probably one on the back of his head too, as that had been the day’s first instance of unconsciousness. There was a minute possibility that final nerve strike had left evidence as well. 

 

He wasn’t in his tack gear anymore, but a set of loose scrubs. Lex had probably seen the marks when his clothes had been changed or informed of them when he’d been examined. He hoped Lex hadn’t been the one to find him like that with his wrists bound, half a building away from the artifact. Shit. His wrists most likely had visible welts too. The way he bruised, he’d have to be careful to cover them up when he went out.

 

Tim opened his eyes. The lights were amber, a spectrum meant not to effect patients’ melatonin production at night. It was a detail mostly for Tim. There weren’t many who needed to sleep on Luthor Tower’s private medical floor, not a real sleep anyway. 

 

Lex was the only one in the room with him. The LexCorp staff who had been injured must have been taken to one of the larger facilities outside of the city. A little thrum of vindictive satisfaction went through him, but no, it was irrational to be angry at them. They’d done their jobs. They’d fought and taken damage for the project. They just hadn’t been enough. Neither had Tim. 

 

It was he after all who had assumed this would be a quiet operation. Maybe - just maybe - Superboy would find them. Possibly - conceivably - Tim’s subliminal plant about magnets in front of Conner Kent would get him in the door without breaking anything. The likelihood of Tim not being able to subdue him with the aid of his Kryptonite ring was extremely low. That’s what he had planned for, not a second intrusion, not the high-level operative that had followed him. He’d gotten too wrapped up in playing with Superboy, experimenting with what the subject would do when given new resources or having them taken away. Tim had made a mistake and he was far from the only one paying for it.

 

“Tim,” Lex was studying his face, his movements in that way that made him feel really seen. When he’d been a kid, forgotten at a fundraiser by his parents Lex had crouched down to Tim’s hight and looked at him like that. He’d asked if Tim liked the party and laughed when Tim shook his head. ‘You have good taste, kid.’ He’d tried for years to meet Lex again, to be seen like that again. That look had been the thing in the world he most wanted. 

 

He was getting it now and he wanted to hide from it.

 

“Do you know who did this?”

 

Admitting failure to the back of his eyelids was far less painful than admitting it to Lex’s worried face. “It appeared to be a single assailant.” Which was bad enough, but… “I don’t believe he was a meta.”

 

Lex didn’t respond for a moment. He was probably trying not to overwhelm a person who’d just regained consciousness. Tim wished he wouldn’t bother. The quiet just gave him more time to replay the scene and feel his own inadequacy more deeply. “Can you describe his fighting style, his tactics?”

 

Tim grimaced. “Visibility was low. He knew how to use that, how to get around us all without being heard or felt. From the little of him I saw… he reminded me of Mercy’s friend in Paris.”  He turned to look at Lex again, a bit of curiosity overcoming his shame for a moment. “I didn’t recognize it, but he wore a cowl over his face and a symbol on his suit. He’s very likely a vigilante.” Maybe one of the Super’s allies. Maybe one of Conner’s friends. Tim frowned.

 

“What did you just realize?” Lex asked.

 

“He may have been there _for_ Superboy, but… If so, why didn’t he arrive sooner?” Tim’d had Superboy down for nearly an hour. Would someone with the skills the assailant had displayed have taken that long? If he’d been far away, wouldn’t warning Supergirl or a speedster by phone have been the safest option? Occam’s razor. The man with the cowl must not be in communication with the vigilante community.

 

“Lex, I think we have a competitor for the artifact. I need to see the security tapes to be sure, but it seems likely.” Tim pulled himself up, ignoring the sharp pain the action caused in his back. Lex put a hand between his shoulders to steady him. It was on one of the less bruised parts of him. He’d definitely seen the marks. “I need to know what he took, or destroyed. It might give us a lead as to who he is and where we can find him.” _Hurt him_. Tim didn’t say out loud.

 

Lex shook his head. “If anything is missing, it was from the undocumented sections. He may have taken photos or information if his expertise extends beyond violence.”

 

Tim was quiet for a moment, replaying what he had seen in between periods of unconsciousness. The assailant was indistinct in his mind, a bundle of shadows and knives. Even when he’d been at close quarters with the man, that anger had taken over. He’d stared into the man’s lens obscured eyes wanting him to feel how much Tim hated him. He wasn’t calm. He wasn’t observing the periphery for clues. That was so unlike him, unlike everything he’d worked to become. He remembered being younger and Lex telling him ‘Your anger is real, Tim. You need to feel it.’ What he’d done though wasn’t feeling the anger, it was being controlled by it. He didn’t even remember deciding to let it. He’d let the anger take away any starting point he’d had.

 

“No information is useless.” Lex murmured. Tim looked up at him. “Knowing what an enemy _doesn’t_ do even less so.”

 

Tim swallowed and nodded. He swung his legs out of bed, trying not to wince. Lex very politely pretended not to notice, even when he helped him up. 

 

“To the information we go, then?” Lex was smiling very slightly.

 

“To the information.” Tim agreed.

 

“Wait, are you leaving?” Tim spun to see Dr. Wada poking his head around the door. “Are you _kidding_?” Tim felt a muscle under his eye twitch as he looked at the man. Dr. Wada visibly stiffened at the realization that he was scolding his extremely powerful employer rather than an anonymous private.

 

“Thank you for the reminder, Doctor.” Lex said. Tim looked at him aghast.

 

“Yes, I’m leaving. I have things. To. Do.” 

 

“Tim’s not allowed to fire you.” Lex reassured Dr. Wada.

 

Lex turned to Tim. “If your health is compromised we need to know now before it effects your work. Let Dr. Wada do his job.” Tim nodded reluctantly. He knew Lex’s words had been specifically formulated to make Tim take care of himself regardless of any impact on his work. It was an inconveniently true bit of manipulation though. He watched jealously as Lex walked to the elevator, which opened immediately as always. 

 

The assessment was admirably quick, but Tim wasn’t in a congratulatory mood at that moment. No problems presented themselves other than the mass of bruises he seemed to be made up of at that point. Tim had been fairly sure that would be the case. 

 

“All done.” Dr. Wada handed Tim a water-bottle and a sweater someone must have gotten from his room. Tim pulled it on over his scrubs, noticing how cold he’d been only when the extra layer started to warm him up. Dr. Wada was looking away from him. To most people, the former battlefield surgeon would have seemed calm, but Tim lived in a world of people who could _look_ calm when they needed to. “You know if I had any control over the situation, you’d be on bed rest for the next few days.”

 

“It’s a good thing you don’t then.” Tim put a little of that smooth threat into his voice that Lex could do so subtly.

 

“Yessir.” The doctor said, looking straight back at Tim. That’s what you get when you higher from the top of the field: opinions.

 

Tim left, walking toward the elevator without the limp his body asked him for. He paused without deciding to do so in an open doorway. A line of amber light from the hallway fell over sheets in the dim room. The two permanent patients of Luthor Tower’s medical floor lived there, a steady pattern of thumps dropping from each of their heart monitors. The man’s head had fallen to the side like he was watching his companion laying still as death in the next bed. His left sternocleidomastoid must be tight again. Tim would have to review the room’s security footage to see if the PT was actually doing her job. How hard could it be to get a person in a coma to stay still? Tim wondered if he was allowed to fire _any_ of the medical staff. Later. This was a failure that could wait. It wasn’t like the man would notice. The elevator took Tim straight into Lex’s penthouse. Walking to his office, across the hall from Lex’s, he did limp. 

 

He didn’t accept meetings in the room. When he did need to meet someone, he generally liked to do so on their ground, where they’d thought they were safest. This allowed him to make his office into a completely inhospitable rat’s nest of wires. Six OLED displays were mounted on a free-standing metal grid in front of his desk. He picked up a second sweater from the floor to put on over the first and called a different camera’s feed to each of the displays. Though he didn’t know if it was the most effective place to start, Tim found himself focusing on the Conner-cam.

 

He’d been recording Superboy’s reaction to the Kryptonite for future analysis. Watching it at that moment, Tim realized that Superboy’s reaction had a different trajectory than the other Super tests. It would have taken _days_ of exposure for Superman or Supergirl to receive the same amount of damage as Superboy had in barely an hour. 

 

Tim couldn’t breathe. He remembered that contractor, the one who couldn’t do anything right, calling out ‘he doesn’t look good’. He could add ‘accurate urgency of reports’ to the man’s list of failings but why hadn’t _Tim_ checked? Gone over to them, hell, he could have checked the security feed on his _phone._ He hadn’t. He’d assumed his information was right, that there weren’t substantial enough genetic differences between the supers to matter, not when they all looked so… familial. Superboy must have some form of immunodeficiency which wouldn’t be detectable in an alien biosphere full of _human hosted_ viral strains and bacterium. The effects had never lasted too long on the other supers, but this recording was the only data he had on Superboy’s condition. 

 

Had Tim just… crippled him? A boy his own age, someone whom he had _conversations_ with almost every day, someone who lit up when Tim told him they were friends? With what Tim had just done to Superboy, he might never see Conner again. 

 

That wasn’t the part he cared about. That _couldn’t be_ the part he cared about because no matter how messed up and unnatural the situation with the supers was, they were still people. How _Tim_ was effected by another person’s pain shouldn’t be the part that mattered, especially when he’d been the one to inflict it.

 

He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in his office window and smoothed out his expression. What _should_ matter _didn’t_ matter. He needed to focus.

 

There was no way someone as sick as Superboy had walked away from that warehouse under his own power, not in the minute he’d had before the crisis team had arrived. The assailant must have taken him. The man who was probably there to steel LexCorp secrets. The bastard who had seen how messed up Superboy was – how _Tim_ had messed him up – and done that to him anyway. He must have him even at that moment. 

 

Conner would have a new story to tell part way, new emotions to shame himself over, a new reason to look as sad as he had the day he’d trusted Tim with what his past had been like. Tim had done that to him when he’d made a Kryptonian weak enough for a human to have power over. 

 

Power… 

 

Where was the Kryptonite ring? Tim unfroze the scene of the man bending over Conner and scrolled to the aftermath, looking for any glint on the floor, by Conner’s body or his own. He clenched his jaw so that it hurt when he saw Conner check Tim’s pulse even after he’d done all of this. Forward. He knew Conner was a good person. There was new information to find, or rather, an absence of information to find. It was gone after the man pulled away from Conner. He had Superboy and the exact weapon he needed to control Superboy, both at Tim’s hand.

 

He wished he’d put a tracker on the boy after all. He hadn’t thought it was worth the chance that he might be found out, that it might undo his advantage and his little chats at school with Conner Kent. If he had, he’d be able to protect him right now. 

 

A phone buzzed with a text and it barely registered, but… that was the little series of beeps that Tim had given Conner’s phone number.

 

He fished the phone from his pocket and his hand was shaking just enough to make it awkward. Was Conner going to give him a clue to help save him? Was Tim about to see a ransom note or some awful proof of life? He took a breath and flicked the lock screen open.

 

 

 

 

12:35 AM

Text from Conner: _Hey_

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just changed the rating back to "Teen" from "Mature" for now. Let me know if you think any chapter or the work as a whole needs to be a higher rating or have more warnings. Thanks!


	4. Red Robin Says “I’m perfectly sane”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the safe house doesn’t appear to be fake. It doesn’t really appear to be safe either… “You feel up to dodging?”… if Red Robin’s question is anything to go by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sick. Thinking hard. I force feed this thing through Grammarly but am still expecting it to have some logical / chronological fuck ups… dude, those are like… the same word or something… woah. If you catch any that are really bad, let me know so I can fix them up when my brain comes back online. Thaaaanks…

The car smells… not so great. There’s some old sweet thing rotting in the back seat, maybe spilled fruit juice or something. Under that, there was a fair amount of tobacco smell, like a heavy smoker’s been trying to quit for a while. The whole thing was especially not great since, even though Kon didn’t have control over his senses right then, they were still _Kryptonian_. 

 

Among the mess, there was a card sticking up in one of the cupholders. Kon’s eyes still weren’t doing that great, but the little green letters remind him of Tim’s neat writing. He picked it up to read automatically. 

 

 

> _Appropriated from 2122 Carter Rd. Check axel alignment in the near future. Do not use Darla’s Auto Repair on 5th. It is a cover for a smuggling ring._

 

Okay then. Probably not Tim’s writing. Why had he thought it was? Kon dropped the weirdly bossy card back into the cupholder.

 

The car shook slightly as the guy got in the driver’s seat and closed the door. He didn’t do something as mundane as turn a key, of course not. There were a few wires pulled out of the bottom of the steering column. Two had been taped together and to the plastic of the dashboard, their potentially electrocute-y bits thoroughly covered. The others were very purposefully taped apart, _their_ electrocute-y bits hanging out. The guy peeled one off the dash and touched it’s exposed metal to the other lone wire. They sparked bright in the dark car. The ozone smell stung Kon’s nose along with everything else. Didn’t seem to bother the guy though. At the cue of the spark, he’d revved the engine. Apparently, it was in neutral or whatever (Learning to drive wasn’t Kon’s biggest priority when he could _fly)_. 

 

From there, the guy leaned back, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel like it was no big deal. He backed out of the ally, checking all of his mirrors and even putting on the _turn signal_. A masked vigilante who was a rule follower, what do you know. They were getting away from a Luthor scheme that had basically become a smoking crater in the ground driving like a couple of old folks.

 

“What’s your name?” Kon asked. Might as well go through the motions of being friendly.

 

“Red Robin. People call me Rob. Sometimes.” He had a robot face on, sort of like Tim did when he didn’t like something or was being a jackass supervillain. Kon was definitely not going to call him ‘Rob’ whatever baggage that could have. 

 

“You know there’s already a ‘Robin’, right?” 

 

“Yeah.” More robot face. Time for a topic switch.

 

“Right then. I’m Superboy.” 

 

“I know. I worked with the Superboy in mytimeline.” Of course he did. Was this guy going to turn out to be a crazy stalker? There was a long silence in which Kon didn’t really want to say anything and Red Robin stayed as stoney looking as he had in the cowl.

 

“Is that why you –“ Red Robin clenched his teeth, not visibly but Kon could hear it. He could hear his heart speeding up a little too. Great. There were already more questions and he hadn’t gotten the first one out yet. “– broke in?”

 

No answer for a few seconds, but the guy’s heart started to slow down again. What had he thought Kon was asking? “No.” Oh well, that just explained so much. If it wasn’t for post-Kryptonite levels of energy, Kon would definitely be banging his head against the window in frustration right then.

 

“Why _did_ you break in?” He clarified.

 

“I needed something. In my timeline, Luthor had it in the same location. I didn’t know you would be there, or…” That was a weirdly ominous way to just trail off.

 

“Or?” 

 

“The fact that you’re alive right now is pure luck.” Kon wondered if they could somehow go back to the ominous trailing off which was less ominous than the ominous statement-making. He shut his mouth and decided to keep it that way as long as he could. It wasn’t like he could really argue with that. He’d been stupid, alone, and weaker than a smashed spider when Red Robin had come onto the scene. Tim wouldn’t have killed Conner, but Superboy? Maybe. Before, when Tim had only been Luthor Jr. to him, Kon had thought he was capable of anything. Expecting any sort of empathy or care out of him was completely new. The crazy possible vigilante was right. Things could have gone much worse for Kon that night than they had.

 

Red Robin spoke softly, interrupting Kon’s self-pity. “… I need to apologize to you.” Okay, Kon didn’t know where this was going but it sounded like a good non-crazy thing to say. “It’s not an excuse, but I haven’t slept in a few days. That plus… it seems to have been enough to impair my judgment. I didn’t notice. That’s very unlike me, I promise.”

 

Great, things just got scary again. Red Robin didn’t look tired, or ‘impaired’. His driving was so smooth Kon didn’t even feel the turns in his Kryptonite messed up stomach. His fighting earlier… He’d taken down one of Luthor’s mercenary teams by himself! It wasn’t because he was some brute knocking goons down with wild force either. There was some surgical precision going on there, taking out specific targets from the shadows, knocking out lights, disarming goons like it was easy. If that was this guy too loopy to make a decision he didn’t regret, what ells could he get done without realizing he’d regret that too? 

 

Someone like this, someone skilled and out of their own control could cause some real damage. This shit was what super-villains were made of. He could hurt someone, a lot of people. 

 

Streetlight flickered over the guy’s hands curled around the steering wheel. Kon could see little white scars barely standing out against the pale skin. This guy could hurt _himself_. 

 

Red Robin puffed out a coldly frustrated breath. “That Luthor flunky had a point.”

 

Kon blinked. ‘Luthor flunky’. “You mean Tim?” 

 

Red Robin’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel for a millisecond before that unreal calmness came back over him. “The one with the pipe?” He asked like he didn’t already know. He’d said ‘you’ looking at Tim. ‘What are _you_ doing here’.

 

“Yeah,” Kon said, a little of his earlier annoyance creeping into his voice. “Timothy Luthor, famous LexCorp heir, puny little super criminal, currently passed out on the floor where you left him. Tim.”

 

There was no answer for long enough that Kon started to think Red Robin was going to ignore him like a little kid. When he did respond, the words came slowly. “I was apologizing for kissing you, but it sounds like you’re more angry that I knocked out… Luthor.”

 

“Well, he’s…” What was Kon going to end that sentence with? ‘A nice guy’? It had taken Kon himself weeks to realize that could be true even a little bit. And Tim had been attacking Red Robin at the time. That was probably relevant too. And he might have been about to kill Kon… It just felt wrong to leave him like that. 

 

Kon sighed, wrapping the cape around himself a little tighter. A metallic scent floated out of it, bringing up a powerful memory from the warehouse. The smell of blood next to the feeling of warmth and the sound of lips against skin.

 

“Wait, you’re apologizing for what now?” The least violent thing he’d done since they’d met? Red Robin was still. Maybe he’d glanced at Kon behind his sunglasses, but Kon sure wouldn’t know.

 

“Oh.” Kon sat back with the weight of a thought. “You worked with Superboy in your dimension.”

 

“Timeline. Yes.” There was something about the guy that seemed to be cringing away under the mask of stillness.

 

Red Robin had said his judgment was impaired. He couldn’t trust his thoughts. He thought he knew Kon from another timeline, possibly an imaginary one. This could be really bad. Was it good enough that he’d stopped thinking Kon was his… whatever other-Kon was?

 

“I’m perfectly sane. It’ll be fine after some sleep…” Kon felt that wasn’t something that should be relied on. He also felt Red Robin probably knew that. He was suddenly overwhelmingly relieved that he was going to spend the night with Red Robin. If they’d gone their separate ways after the warehouse, Kon never would have known that this guy wasn’t okay, and whether he was a timeline traveler or a regular old delusional dude, he was _definitely_ not okay. Kon would make sure this weirdo got to sleep safe tonight even if he sucked at every other hero thing.

 

“Please don’t look at me like that.” Kon looked away guiltily. 

 

They’d stopped, the only car at a red light.

 

“Don’t worry about…” Kon floundered for a minute. “Earlier. You’re fine.”

 

Red Robin looked at him, and this time Kon could tell because the reflections in his glasses shifted slightly.

 

The light changed, filling the car with green.

 

* * *

 

They weren’t in a particularly dense part of town. The buildings looked fancy because they were old, but at the same time they looked sort of moldy and beaten up… also because they were old. Kon hadn’t seen anyone else for a few blocks and some of the buildings had boarded up windows. Red Robin parked his stollen Honda in an ally just as poorly lit as the last one.

 

He looked at Kon for a moment. It didn’t feel like he was checking him out or anything. It was sort of creepier than that. “You feel up to dodging?”

 

“What?”

 

“If the safe house is occupied, there might be a fight.” 

 

Kon blinked. “I thought this was _your_ safe-house.”

 

“My brother’s.”

 

“You’re brother is going to fight you?”

 

“He’s never been one of my biggest fans and anyway, I suspect…” Red Robin frowned very slightly. All of his expressions seemed to be slight. “I don’t exist in this timeline. Some things here are the same, but not everything. We shouldn’t get caught up thinking we know the future.”

 

Solid point. Especially if the guy was crazy.“I can dodge fine.” Kon lied. “Let’s go.”

 

Facing the fire escape, Red Robin griped something that looked like a flashlight without the bulb. The way he held it made it feel like a weapon, which was weird. Kon didn’t have anything to carry but the cape blanket. He was still pretty damn woozy so that was definitely enough. Red Robin glanced at him like he could tell, but didn’t say anything.

 

With very little warning, Red Robin took a step leaped to grab the edge of the fire escape a story above them. He climbed over the railing to unlock and lower the ladder. When Kon was done taking his embarrassingly long trip up to the first landing, Red Robin pulled the ladder back into place. From there it was stairs to the third floor, which wasn’t as bad, but Kon still felt winded (which wasn’t a familiar experience for him). Red Robin slid a bit of molding (the fancy kind, not the gross kind) from the window frame where they stopped. There was a keypad under it. Kon didn’t know if he was reassured that it really was some sort of safe house, or worried that this guy was involved with something so… spy gear laden. 

 

The numbers weren’t backlight like ones on Lois’s home security system. He guessed that people with secret entrances in dark alleyways didn’t want bright things giving their positions away. Red Robin punched in the code with the knuckle of his thumb, like someone was going to dust for fingerprints later or something. The window slid up without a hint of rust or swollen wood. Despite the tenseness in his shoulders, a minuscule speck of immaturity at the back of his mind managed a giggle at that. Red Robin looked at him with a worried furrow to his brow, halfway into the building. “Did you just giggle?” Kon shook his head, really hoping the guy couldn’t tell if he was blushing in the dark. “That’s it. The minute I’m sure we aren’t about to be shot, you’re getting a concussion assessment.” He slithered the rest of the way into the room.

 

Kon craned his neck to see into the room. He was probably bulletproof again. Kryptonite poisoning left the body in the same order it entered. His outsides felt fine and dandy. It was just his creamy nugget center that felt like it was running a marathon with three strains of the flue. He could barely make out some floorboards in the meager light from the window. How the hell was Red Robin moving around in that dark? Super vision of basically any sort would be real fuckin’ useful right then.

 

A light flicked on. “Ow!” Kon covered his eyes. “Sorry,” Red Robin said, voice pretty much the same as it’d been all night. “Place’s clear.” He held out a hand like he was going to help some Victorian lady out of her carriage. Kon glared at it and helped his goddamned self into the room. Red Robin pulled his hand back in, looking a bit embarrassed. Maybe Kon was being a bit hard on the guy, but he knew how he looked and didn’t really like the feeling of having it rubbed in.

 

Red Robin busied himself covering the window they’d just entered with blackout curtains, fiddled with his sunglasses and then took them off, folding the legs carefully. Kon did a double take and then folded over himself laughing. “Shh!” Red Robin hissed. “Being inside does _not_ mean no one will hear you.”

 

“Dude, oh my freakin’ _God_. Were you, this _whole time_? You were wearing a mask _under_ your sunglasses? How many things to cover your face do you have?” This mask didn’t have those opaque lenses, so Kon could see Red Robin’s eyes. They were a pretty grey-blue rimmed in thick black lashes completely at odds with his crazy robot character.

 

“Masks draw attention. Glasses get knocked off. I like to be prepared.”

 

As soon as Kon straightened up catching his breath there was a flashlight in his face and a calloused hand was on his chin. “Agh! No! I don’t have a concussion!”

 

“This isn’t a self-diagnosis situation. Anyway, have you ever felt what a concussion is like before?” Kon didn’t answer. Not because Red Robin was right, just because he didn’t want to.

 

The flashlight was gone and its wielder was walking away. “Does this mean I don’t have a concussion?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Hah! I fuckin’ knew it!”

 

“Lucky guess.” Red Robin called from the other room. “Get in here. There’s food.” That was definitely the most persuasive thing this guy had said or done all night, including nocking out a mini LexCorp army.

 

* * *

 

The pantry was extremely well stocked with extremely disappointing things; Lots of canned and dehydrated stuff. Red Robin rolled his eyes at the look on Kon’s face. “Metropolis isn’t exactly the family’s neighborhood. Can’t get fresh groceries every week.” He pulled out a few cans. “Tomato soup sound ok?” 

 

“Tomato soup is fine.” Kon looked sideways at Red Robin. “You know, you’re really making it sound like you’re in the spandex division of the mob.”

 

Red Robin paused, gazed at the ceiling for a moment, and shrugged before continuing his rummaging. “I see where you’re getting that.”

 

“That was not a denial.”

 

“I’m not in the mob.”

 

Kon moaned in frustration. “Well, now I don’t believe you.” 

 

“That’s unlikely to change. Ah!” Red Robin pulled a pack of those vending machine powdered donuts from behind where the soup had been, looking pleased as punch. “These things never expire…” His expression flickered for a moment and he adjusted the statement, “I don’t _think_ they expire.” He settled the cans on the beat up kitchen table so that he could double check the donut’s fine print.

 

Kon sighed and started looking for a can opener. At least the guy was honest. The linoleum surface of the counter was water warped and pealing. The drawers under it sort of stuck in their places. Apparently making them usable wasn’t as high a priority as making the sneaking-in-window quiet. Since the can opener was in the _last_ place he possibly could have looked (at shin hight in a drawer on its own) he had found a few other things too, some of which he wished he hadn’t. The winner of most disturbing was a bullet embedded in the handle of a spatula. A bullet wounded spatula in a safe house kitchen. There wasn’t a hole in the counter or the drawer either, which meant the spatula had gotten _shot_ and then someone had put it _back_ into the drawer. He poked the bullet spatula, staring for a minute then decided he didn’t have enough brain power to figure it out that night. There were some bowls and spoons too, with were actually things they needed. He sniffed them warily, decided the discoloration wasn’t relevant and went to grab the soup off the table. 

 

Red Robin had found a couple of cans of _Zesti_ somewhere and was looking at them like they were _confusing_ him. “Are you trying to open them with your mind?” Kon asked? He pretty much always enjoyed a telekinesis joke, good or otherwise. 

 

“…No.” Red Robin answered distractedly. “I’m just thinking, in my timeline our host doesn’t drink these. He’ll just go straight for a beer. I like them, but I’m not part of the family here.  Our older brother will have them, but they wouldn’t exactly have a drink together, so… why’re they here?” Red Robin chewed on his lip “Do you know Robin?”

 

Kon felt thrown for a second. The guy was still staring at the _Zesti_ can despite the abrupt change of subject. “Not really. We’ve met a few times. Why?” He set the microwave (equally as stained as the bowls) to heating up their dinners. It would be so cool to just heat-vision them. 

 

“How would you describe… Robin?” 

 

‘ _Absolutely normal compared to Red Robin’_ he wanted to say but exercised some self-control. “I donnknow. She’s hot definitely. Pretty funny. Kicks ass. You know: Robin stuff.” There was no response. Red Robin was still staring at the _Zesti._ This was just awkward.

 

The microwave beeped, pulling Red Robin out of his creepy soda pop related revery. Kon put one of the bowls in front of him, next to the donuts and _Zesti_ , feeling a little tickle of a memory. “You know none of those things go together, right?” 

 

Red Robin shrugged, dropping into one of the chairs. “I like the contrast.” 

 

Kon slurped at his dinner imagining the taste of tomato soup, powdered donuts, and _Zesti_ together. He cringed. “Dude. I would seriously eat _kale_ before combining those.”

 

“Why not? Kale’s good.” Kon reminds himself that he’s already pretty much decided this guy is crazy, so things like this shouldn’t be a surprise.

 

“Are you from Gotham?” Red Robin (the ninja) dropped his spoon. Kon felt sort of successful, even though he totally hadn’t thought it was a gotcha question. 

 

“Why do you ask?” Red Robin says, affect of calm to an excess. 

 

“Nothin’. It’s just Tim always has weird shit like _Zesti_ and donuts together at school and he’s from Gotham. Just seemed like one of those things that might be regional, like how up north no one has salsa at breakfast, or deep dish pizza or something.” He shrugged, ignoring his spoon and drinking the last third of his soup.

 

“At school?” Red Robin’s spoon was halfway to his mouth again. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“This is one of your friends?”

 

“Uh… Yeah?”

 

“…So your friend Tim is a different Tim than the one who just poisoned you?” 

 

Kon froze. Oops. For a guy who was so unnerving to be around, Red Robin seemed to sneak in under Kon’s secret ID keeping security pretty much automatically. 

 

“He doesn’t know my civilian ID.” Crap. He should have denied it! It’s not like ‘Tim’ was a crazy rare name! 

 

Red Robin set his spoon back in its bowl. “You, Superboy, are buddies with Lex Luthor’s sidekick. Please confirm that’s what you just said.” 

 

Kon wished he hadn’t finished his soup so he’d have something to pretend to be concentrating on right then. “Yeeeeeaaah…” he finally answered. 

 

Red Robin slumped back in his chair, incredulity knocking the foundation out from under his poise. “How the hell did that happen?” 

 

Kon sank a bit in his chair. “He’s my Algebra tutor?” 

 

Silence. 

 

“That only adds more questions.” 

 

Kon reddened. “He needed public service points or something, so he ended up in the tutoring program at school and I’m the dumbest person there, so it pretty much had to happen. When I saw it was him I was ready to freak the fuck out, but recon or whatever. Figured keeping an eye on him wasn’t a bad idea… and it turns out he’s a really… I like the not-evil part of him.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes feeling subdued. A little twinge under the pressure reminded him that the Kryptonite wasn’t all out of his system yet and the bruises weren’t either. “That’s what makes it so goddamned frustrating when he goes back to all the plotting. It’s like… I didn’t use to care so much about what he thought, I just wanted to punch his little smug face…”

 

“And now?” Red Robin asked quietly. 

 

“And now I _really_ want to punch his little smug face.” Red Robin laughed. It was short and had a little rasp to it like his serious voice did, but it was actually really nice. Kon wouldn’t have expected the guy could sound like that. 

 

He looked down, losing that sweet little smile. “How can you be sure he doesn’t know who you are?”

 

Kon quirked his eyebrow. “Well, he hasn’t, I don’t know, stabbed me with a Kryptonite pencil or anything at school.” Or threatened the human bits of his family, or tried to blackmail him, or in any way acted like he wasn’t just talking to a normal kid. The guy who’d poisoned Superboy wouldn’t take off his scary tack gear to chit-chat about his celebrity crush with Conner if he knew they were the same person.

 

“What if… his goal isn’t to hurt you?”

 

Kon blinked. “What other kind of goal could he have?”

 

There was a solid pause in which Red Robin seemed to be getting pretty uncomfortable. It was sort of fascinating. “Sometimes people… like him…” He chewed on his lip. “The Joker has in the past protected Batman from others and it’s not because he grew a conscience. Sometimes people like them just want to play with people like you.” A little chill went up Kon’s neck. ‘Them’ and ‘you’ Red Robin had said. _He_ was wearing a mask too. Why wasn’t there a ‘me’ or an ‘us’ in any of that?

 

“So you _are_ from Gotham.” Kon tried for a cocky grin like he _wasn’t_ super disturbed.

 

Red Robin winced. “I’ve spent time there.”

 

Kon took pity on the guy. “Tim’s not the Joker. He doesn’t know who I am. You’ve just got to trust me on that, man.”

 

Red Robin stood and stepped away from the table conceding. “Right. I guess I wouldn’t know.”

 

He cleared the dishes to the sink, flipping on the hot tap. Kon hadn’t expected him to do that. Maybe it was like religiously using the turn signal on his stollen _Honda_. “You want the first shower?” 

 

Kon thought of objecting just on the basis of anyone commenting on his hygiene buuuut, he was covered in warehouse dust and Kryptonite flop sweat. Taking a whiff of his costume shirt, he was surprised the topic hadn’t come up sooner. 

 

“Sure. Just gimme a sec.” There’d been a front-loading washer/dryer set in one of the cabinets under the counter. Kon crouched down to look them over more thoroughly than he had earlier.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Checking for bullets.”

 

“Oh.” Red Robin turned off the fossett and walked over to kneel next to Kon. He didn’t smell nearly as bad as Kon did. His suit had that kevlar tang to it and the clothes he’d ‘borrowed’ to cover it up smelled faintly of cigarets. Mostly it just smelled like he’d had a good work out, which sure, some people weren’t fans of. Kon found that he wasn’t one of those people. Kryptonians didn’t sweat much except in certain green tinged circumstances, and that was a very different thing. To Kon, the sent of exertion on someone else’s body so close to his would always first and foremost mean sex. He tried to suppress a blush and probably failed.

 

Red Robin reached out to poke a few buttons, lighting up little symbols on the machines. He’d set them up the same way Clark did for his uniform. Kon wondered if it was a superhero industry standard or just a weird coincidence. “Good thought. They seem functional though.” He looked Kon over not turning his head. “Regardless, I’m guessing you don’t want to sleep in that. Correct?”

 

“Uh… Yeah? I mean, no? I don’t have other clothes.”

 

Red Robin stood and was walking away before Kon really registered motion. How did he do that? “My brother does.”

 

_Ew._ Kon thought. Was he really going to wear Red Robin’s _brother’s_ clothes? That felt very weird for some reason. Then he looked down at his current attire. Also _ew_. He got up to follow Red Robin into a third room he hadn’t seen yet. It didn’t have a light, but the kitchen’s bulb was bright enough to find their way around. There was a futon in one corner labeling the space as a bedroom and a composite board dresser for Red Robin to start digging through. There was an embarrassed pause as they both noticed a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube among the socks. 

 

Red Robin closed that drawer and very purposefully handed Kon a pile of clothes and a towel which was probably supposed to be white. “Shower’s the last door out of the kitchen.” Red Robin informed Kon. “Weird place for a shower.” Red Robin shrugged. “Right next to the only other sink. Less plumbing for an old building.” Kon turned to go, considering that answer. When put like that he started to wonder why Lois’s apartment was laid out differently.

 

On second thought, he was really glad Lois’s place wasn’t like this. She might cut her foot on something broken: broken tiles in the floor, spiderweb cracks on the mirror. Even the toilet had its seat knocked off to one side, the hinge snapped off. 

 

“Uhhh… Red? I think there was a fight in here or something.” 

 

Red Robin ducked his head in the door. “Yeah. That would be in character… Maybe the _Zesti_ was our brother’s after all.” Well, he was disconcertingly calm about that. He had the morphed standards of someone who went out at night in a mask, but Kon would still be freaked out if _his_ family members destroyed a room fighting. But then, his family members mostly got along (when Clark wasn’t being a dick). 

 

“Okay, so when you say ‘brothers’, do you mean it in the traditional sense or is it some creepy cult thing?”

 

“So if I’m not in the mob, I’m in a cult?”

 

“I’m just getting all my angles covered here.”

 

“We aren’t related. We aren’t in a cult.”

 

Red Robin popped out of the room leaving Kon to practically wallow in confusion and eventually remember to get undressed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just cut this off the end since it made no friggn' sense, but I thought it was still enjoyable enough to share XP
> 
>  
> 
> Kon looked around the disaster zone of a bathroom and ended up knocking shards of mirror off the sink ledge to put the clean clothes on. He dumped the dusty, sweaty Superboy uniform on the floor and turned on the water. Pretty great pressure considering the state of the building as a whole. It got really hot too, as hot as any Kryptonian could want. Nice showers must have been on the same priority level as quiet sneaking-in-windows.
> 
> “Oh yeah,” Red Robin’s voice came through the bathroom door. “We set off the silent alarm a while ago. I’m calling our host to let him know, but he might drop by and try to shoot me anyway.”
> 
> “And you wait till I’m naked to tell me that nard shrinking information. Thank you so much.” There was a pause. 
> 
> “You should be bulletproof again at this point, right?”
> 
> “Yeah.” Kon admitted. 
> 
> “Then there’s no problem.” Kon made a face as he heard Red Robin walking away to futz with more stuff in the dangerous shoot-everything-guy’s apartment. Did he have no self-preservation instinct?


	5. Jason Has Thoughts on This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gets a creepy call from someone who may be a former Bat, may be a current con artist, and is definitely being very weird about the Luthor kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where we all pretend that the only timeline change I made was Tim’s time-traveling. Goodbye cannon accuracy, you are but a pixel on my Hubble image.
> 
> Warnings: I donknow… privacy invasion? I feel like people who like Tim probably aren’t triggered by that though.

Jason was settled against the short wall separating roof from empty air, helmet off, cigaret burning down to the filter. He was indisputably sulking. For once it had been Dick who’d run off: Bat-business or something. Jason hadn’t realized before exactly how shitty it was to be the one left behind after. 

 

He absently rubbed at the little pink bite marks on his fingers. Dick probably hadn’t meant to do it. Despite the grubby alleys and cold rooftops they usually ended up on, he was a real silk sheets and foot rubs sort of guy, not exactly into the rough stuff. Jason sort of liked seeing the marks though, knowing they’d be there for a few days to remind him how much he could make the hero loose control of his perfectly trained body. Jason’s little bit of a smile turned sower as the warm memory followed reality and Dick disappeared with a little wave. What? Jason knew he was being a hypocrite. Didn’t make him any less grumpy about it.

 

He’d run into Dick first thing on patrol at a startlingly early hour for any night running vigilante. Somehow they’d skipped the usual misguided cajoling and uncensored snarling. It’d been a few weeks since that knock down drag out fight they’d had but it still felt fresh to Jason, probably to Dick too. He hadn’t seen the man since (or his screwed to hell safe-house). Maybe Jason was a hair lonelier than usual. Maybe Dick had felt guilty. Maybe they’d both wanted to stop feeling that way without the obligatory ‘talking it through’. It hadn’t really worked out for Jason (see figure A: sulking over a lack of rooftop cuddling).

 

A phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He stubbed out the bare remains of his cigaret and put the speaker to his ear. “What?” He didn’t make any attempt to sound inviting.

 

“I have some information for you.” 

 

Jason didn’t recognize the voice. It was male, with a bit of a Gotham accent. More distinctively, it was quiet, with the edge of a rasp. There were a few types of quiet voices. The shy, which didn’t pass the smell test. The threatening, which he’d watch out for but didn’t really expect based on the opening line. Then there was the confident, which you pretty much had to be to cold call the Red Hood.

 

Jason pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to register the text reading ‘No Caller ID’. He curled his lip. Fucking typical that someone talking to him would block their ID, that’s what he did after all. Annoying as hell though. There were ways to figure out the origin, but they didn’t always work, and there were always good old-fashioned detective skills.

 

“Lay it on me. Oh, and if you could let me know who you are and why I should trust a single thing you say, that’d be tops.” There was a little sound, almost unnoticeable over the static of the phone signal. It reminded Jason of Bruce… before, when they’d been on patrol and any sign of amusement behind that cowl had been in code. It made him want to hit something.

 

“I’ll give you the truth here: you don’t trust me.” So, what, he knew this person but not their voice? Jason started mentally scrolling through people he’d made contact with purely through text or reputation. “You don’t even like me,” Well that didn’t narrow the list down all that much, “but… I trust you.” 

 

That hung in the static for a moment. The voice had sort of lost something. Without the context, Jason wouldn’t have identified it as confident anymore. “I trust that you want to protect people, even if we disagree on how, and someone in Gotham needs to know.” So this guy was a hero, one of the snooty ones apparently. “The family would…”

 

Jason felt every one of his muscles tighten. “The family?” He said ‘family’ in that way they all did. There was no way it didn’t mean the same ‘family’ Jason or Dick would think of. Jesus. Like Baby Bird Brown wasn’t enough? There was another one? Dick was in so much fucking trouble. There was a new acolyte to the cult of Bruce’s issues and Dick’d gone straight to Jason’s fly without pausing to mention that?

 

The little shit on the other end let out a breath. “It wouldn’t be easy to talk to them like this. They… Some things happened that I’m not prepared to forget right now.”

 

Jason felt his anger redirecting, back to it’s most reliable resting place. It was completely plausible that Bruce had taken on another kid, someone who didn’t have anyone else, and got him completely screwed up. Jason believed he _would_ do that. Batman _would_ reck more lives while he was off pretending to walk the high road. That didn’t mean he _had_. 

 

Jason hoped he wasn’t completely obvious when it came to the family. He really didn’t want every punk in Gotham thinking they knew what was going on there. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst though. This messed up sounding kid, and he did have the strange feeling that the voice on the other end of the phone belonged to a kid despite the sniper-cool tone, could be using Jason’s daddy issues against him here. But hey, Jason didn’t need to be up front about that suspicion and if it wasn’t a con… he didn’t want to reck the kid more. Jason softened his voice a little like he was talking to a freaked out mugging victim or one of his crime ally neighbors when they ran out of meds. “Okay. What do you need to tell me?”

 

The kid actually did laugh this time, a short, broken bark. Maybe he recognized the tone. He gathered the sternness back to his voice “What do you know about Tim Luthor?”

 

“I thought you were _offering_ information.”

 

“I am.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. He could punish the kid for being cryptic again. It wouldn’t exactly be off-brand for him, but he’d _just_ decided not to go that rout. Be nice. See where it goes. 

 

“Never met him myself. Publicly he seems like a nice kid, pretty unremarkable. I’ve read some of the less public info on him though. Apparently, he’s got a nasty streak and some combat skill.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he changed sides one of these days.”

 

There was a quiet sound of interest on the other end of the line. “You think senior and junior have problems?”

 

This might hurt, Jason or the kid with the unknown issues a former Bat was sure to have. Might as well dive right in. “Luther adopted him last year after his parents disappeared. That’s not a place of strength to come from. There’s no way to know what he actually wants or whether that would change if he had someone else to go to. I’m not too excited about labeling a traumatized kid evil.”

 

“...Disappeared?”

 

“Yeah.” Jason didn’t have to reach for the details. He’d been paying attention at the time. It had made him angry, seeing someone just as delusional as Bruce taking a kid under his wing to brainwash. Little Tim drake probably hadn’t been as prepared to keep his own mind together as Jason had been either. He hadn’t had the experience of actively reaching for survival over and over again and learning not to trust. His trauma had been sudden, unexpected. A mind like that would have been putty in the hands of the charismatic, genius billionaire who’d ‘saved’ him. Jason’s nearly had been, despite his wariness. 

 

“There was a ransom demand, but Drake industries – the parent’s company – was blocked from paying it, negotiating with terrorists or whatever. There was a military action to try and extract them, but by the time they got there, the place was cleared out. No weirdo cult members to question. No bodies to examine.” 

 

So he had done a little hacking and peeking. So what? He’d left the kid alone since. Mostly. He seemed happy the majority of the times Jason had checked in on him. If things went up in flames, he’d try to help the kid, but otherwise, it was a waste of time. He was strong-willed enough at this point that any suggestion that his hero wasn’t all he was cracked up to be would just push him further into Luthor’s loyalty. 

 

“Do you think... B knows...”

 

Weird question. If Bruce knew what had happened to the Drakes, wouldn’t he have told law enforcement? He wasn’t an open book but with a case like this that had nothing to do with the family and a grieving orphan besides, why would he keep a secret? “Do you?”

 

Silence.

 

It was really starting to seem like Tim Luther was important somehow to Jason’s mystery caller. How much of a leap was it to say the kid was important to Bruce in some way too? The probability quadrupled if the caller actually _was_ former-family. This Luthor kid might have a lot of powerful, dangerous people fighting over him in the not too distant future. Jason would have to keep an eye on him.

 

“There’s a possibility that Luther knows B’s identity.”

 

“Anything’s possible.” The light phrase sounded dark coming from Jason’s mouth. 

 

It was quiet again. 

 

“If he knows who B is, he knows who all of you are.” ‘You’? That wasn’t right. Jason had thought this kid was closer to the family than him. Why wouldn’t he count himself among the threatened?

 

“My civilian ID isn’t a problem.” Thanks for taking care of that, Joker.

 

“You can’t count on that. If... he went to B before Luther – and I have reason to suspect he did – things could get very dangerous for all of you.”

 

Ok, Jason knew that Tim was smart, smart enough for Luther to take an interest in, but no one was smarter than Bruce. That was part of Bruce’s problem. He was so used to being the smartest person in the room that he couldn’t tell apart the feelings of being ahead of the curve and being wrong. 

 

“What do you know about Luther that I don’t?”

 

The background static of the phone signal was harsh as Jason waited for an answer, an inadvertent sound, or a dial tone.

 

“I know that he likes to collect secrets, preferably dangerous ones that belong to other people. I know that he was a child in Gotham when that habit would have been developing. I know N wasn’t as careful _then_ as he is now.”

 

Hairs raised on Jason’s skin as he listened. He was keeping in mind that these might all be lies. They were very fitting, believable lies though, lies that depended on knowing where the first Robin had gone after losing the pixy boots.

 

“I know,” the caller continued, “that his mother is dead, and none of us saved her. That’s the kind of thing that can support real hate.”

 

Well… that was an awful thought. The guy’s voice had turned a bit awful as well. There was some good old-fashioned self-loathing in there, something Jason could sympathize with. The caller couldn’t have anything to feel guilty about though. The Drakes had disappeared more than a year ago. No way a new family member had joined that long ago without Jason finding out. There hadn’t been any sightings of a new Robin or Tufted Titmouse or whatever the shit B wanted to name his messed up progeny. Besides that… Dick couldn’t keep it a secret this long. Not really ifJason thought about it with a little less venom. He was a fine lier, but… he’d been letting Jason kiss him, fuck him, bare his goddamned _soul_  to him that entire time. Jason couldn’t see Dick being able to do that while he knew what another sidekick would do to him. He was such a good guy, the guilt would probably make his infamously undiscerning cock go soft.

 

The kid on the phone had said ‘us’ though, for the first time. And he had said ‘mother’ not ‘parents’. He had specifics Jason didn’t have.

 

“So, you’re telling me to check my closet for stray Luthors before I get all tucked in. Is that all?”

 

“Joke if you want. I’ve told you he’s dangerous. However much you want to misdirect me, I know you don’t ignore the possibility of danger.”

 

“Sure, whatever makes you happy.” (and happens to be annoyingly accurate).

 

The phone clicked, static ending abruptly. “ _Rude._ ” Jason glared at it. He blinked. With the call screen gone, a red warning banner was visible. ‘ _Intrusion: Metropolis. 73 minutes ago._ ’

 

Well fuck. How did he not hear that go off? What was he doing seventy-three minutes ago? The helmet with its earpiece had been on the ground by that point, and the gloves… maybe his jacket with the phone in its pocket as well? Leaving him disconnected from both of his alert systems. That was stupid. Jason really wished he could blame Dick.

 

He thumbed open the safe-house-sitter app he’d hacked together and checked his Metropolis cameras. They took still photographs every twenty seconds that motion sensors were activated in or around the building. Sometimes a rat got inside or a couple would park in the dark alley next to the building to bang. No one had ever broken into his floor before though, not when the decoy apartments were so much less trouble. A set of silent alarms on the first floor that called police to fictional disturbances down the street didn’t hurt either. 

 

The alarm which had been tripped was connected to a drawer at shin hight in the kitchen. It was one of those places that someone wouldn’t bother with unless they were searching the place, or if Jason or Dick needed the can opener, but he turned off the triggers when he was there. Accidentally setting off banners on his phone every few minutes was confirmation that they worked but also extremely annoying. When this intruder opened the drawer, the cameras all took an extra shot. Jason scrolled to those images first.

 

There were two of them. Male. Light skinned. Dark haired. Late teens or early twenties. Cloths dirty and torn. The dirtier one had triggered the alarm looking through drawers. He didn’t have the stance of someone expecting trouble though, just someone looking for the can opener. The skinny looking one in the ragged hoodie had his head in the pantry looking intent. There were two cans of soup on the table. If these were hungry street kids who had somehow made it into the Red Hood’s safe-house and taken that long to trip anything, he’d have to skip on over to congratulate them, maybe toss ‘em each a burner in case they ever needed semi-moral, totally illegal work. 

 

The alarm bells in Jason’s head ticked down a few notches. The mystery caller might still be the bigger threat tonight. By the end of their little tête-à-tête, he’d started to feel like the guy really had an inside track. It’d been damn creepy actually. If he wasn’t getting his info from Bruce, Jason needed to know where he _was_ getting it. If Bruce really was his source, Jason might need to go fuck shit up for him in proxy revenge. Another sidekick… damn.

 

He started flipping through pictures going back in time to find out how the two had made it in. One at 11:14:40 pm showed the two standing close together in what Jason sardonically called ‘the study’. The skinny one was facing away from the camera, obscuring a good deal of his accomplice. Jason could just see his thumb guiding the other boy’s chin toward himself. The dirty one was pouting like a starlet. He was probably a real looker under all that grime. Jason cackled, queer street kids with too much B&E skill. They’d be a match made in heaven for the Red Hood’s network, which was very nearly a support group at this point.

 

If he got in contact with the caller again, whether he was a former Bat or not, he’d probably make a good addition as well. In one case, he had Bat training to build on. In the other, he had supreme information gathering and acting skills. Jason could get him doing something worthwhile, something effective. 

 

He skipped backward again. They were at the window on the outside. Weird, coming in that way they would have had to notice the upgraded details. If they were looking for a squat that would have driven them right away. Jason took a mental step back from his recruitment plans. Maybe he’d rushed a little to project ‘street kids’. The dirty one didn’t look great though. He was hunched over like he was sick or had taken a bad beating. People generally didn’t go looking for the Red Hood or his stuff looking like that. 

 

He opened the text logs to find out if the keypad lock had glitched to let them in or just been broken. It hadn’t done either. The code Jason had programmed into it himself had been submitted. No false starts or wrong guesses. Probably not good news for Jason. There seemed to be a few leeks in his system today. Too many people having inside information for his tastes.

 

The intruders were shown arriving in the ally next to Jason’s safe-house almost six minutes before inputting the passcode. The skinny one had appeared on the fire escape between images but the dirty one had taken eighteen separate frames to get out of the car and up three flights, so he was almost definitely not well.

 

Jason wondered what the things the kid on the phone wasn’t ‘willing to forget’ were. He reminded himself that he had no proof the kid was telling the truth and sped through the evening’s images.

 

Jason watched the intruders eat dinner, the dirty one blushing more than once. He watched them steal his clothes which he totally would have given them anyway. He watched the dirty one cleaning off just long enough to satisfy that that was actually what he was doing rather than planting a bug or something. Jason didn’t see any bruises or scratches so that left sickness or acting for some reason. The guy was built too, definitely not starving. If he was a street kid, it was a recent change for him. 

 

Feeling like he had to scrub his skull out to get rid of the watching someone in the shower creeper residue, he turned back to the images from the kitchen. The skinny one had Jason’s safe-house phone to his ear. He’d found it pretty damn fast, in between frames again. Jason held on that image for a moment. The intruder had spent a lot of time looking down, away from the cameras’ sight since entering the safe-house. This coincidence of a shot showed the side of his face and what looked like a domino across his eyes. 

 

He knew that moment, this was the same kid who had called him that night, with his own ID-free phone, from his own safe-house. This was the kid who was sending warnings about Luthor, sitting in the Metropolis slums. The former bat or the spy. The two threats were one. The two people setting his protective instincts ringing were the same.

 

Jason stood, sliding the phone into his pocket, pulling the helmet back on. Time to see if he could find the Bat-business and a Nightwing to question. The past fourteen months needed a fact check and he needed a ride to Metropolis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! There was a way to get that phone call! I’d been thinking it didn’t make sense because: 
> 
> 1) Tim was so unlikely to trip an alarm and even less likely to just sit down for dinner knowing he’d tripped an alarm.  
> 2) Jay would know immediately that there was an intrusion and go do something about it before the things that need to happen next chapter could happen.
> 
> Then a commenter, MyfuckingLestat, mentioned that there was some set up for JayDick I hadn’t even noticed I put there, and a light shown down from heaven as I realized, Jay wouldn’t notice the alarm if Dick had already pulled his communication devices off him. Now I get to have Tim trying to find out what the community knows about his double, and a reason for Jay and Dick to get involved at the same time! 
> 
> It’s not the first time all y’all’s comments have got me thinking and made more story happen either. It’s great encouragement and I’ve been having a ton of fun. So, thank you guys so much :)


	6. Kon’s Divided On The Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12:35 AM  
> Conner: Hey
> 
> Well, that was smooth. Now Kon was going to be bored again, possibly till the morning. Maybe Tim wouldn’t want to talk to Connor Kent at all right after Superboy (well, really Red Robin) screwed over whatever his plan had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now actually messing with the backstory I WROTE in another fic. My poor, mangled outline. The mediocre die so young… and get rewritten several times.
> 
> My ignorance on Superboy’s exact origins and when it lined up with Clark’s temporary death and his relationship with Lois might be showing here. I’ll blame it on the AU.
> 
> Warnings: There is some nice, consensual sexiness later, but first you have to wade through the reasons Kon has issues to get there. Kon also beats himself up quite a bit in this chapter. I suppose we can call that victim blaming. I’m also adding a tag for mentions of past sexual abuse on this chapter.

Kon watched the water swirling around the drain. It was cloudy with dark little particles that were _still_ rinsing off his skin after ten minutes. It was sort of gross, but also sort of cool to watch the density of it changing. He wondered if Red Robin had dust like this all over him even with the protection of that heavy uniform. He’d only been on the floor for a minute… for the kissing bit. 

 

Kon let out a puff of breath and tilted his face into the shower spray. He’d liked that kiss. A room away from Red Robin though, where there wasn’t anyone to figure out but himself, he was less hot-and-bothered and more… confused. There had been a lot going on, a lot of new information to go through that night, but shouldn’t he still have cared a bit more about the whole… choice thing?

 

The first time Kon had been kissed, he hadn’t made that choice either. He hadn’t really known what was going on. Sure, he’d seen couples on the street but that exterior information hadn’t really translated to what feeling it was like.

 

He’d only escaped CADMUS a few weeks before. It’d just started to sink in, the fact that he wasn’t important to anyone, in the world. CADMUS wasn’t even trying to get him back anymore. He’d been starting to wonder if being invisible was worse than being under the microscope. 

 

The man was just someone he’d run into, not a scientist, a crime fighter or a super-villain. He hadn’t had any special powers to control a Kryptonian. He just told Kon he was pretty, and Kon _knew_ that ‘pretty’ was a good thing. He bought Kon a sandwich from the shop he’d been told to stop loitering by. He lead him back to the motel he’d been staying in a couple of blocks away. He’d started taking off Kon’s clothes, even though Kon hadn’t known why. 

 

The man had fucked him, and it had been the most intense sensation he’d ever experienced at that point. He’d called Kon ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’. Then he’d told him it was time to leave. 

 

Kon didn’t hurt the man, but the motel hadn’t fared well against his first – and so far only – uncontrollable blast of heat vision. He used to feel guilty about the entire thing. He used to think he’d had to be the stupidest little shit to let any of it happen and be surprised when he still wasn’t important to anyone an hour later. There was still a little twinge when he thought of it now, but it wasn’t only guilt or shame anymore. Now, he didn’t feel too bad about the smell of burnt plastic fixtures or the look on the man’s face when he realized he wasn’t the strongest person in the room for once.

 

Things had changed a lot when Lois had found him. She’d treated him differently than anyone else ever had. The reporter was extremely direct and she didn’t _expect_ anything from him. “I never wanted to be a mom.” She’d said, passing Kon the coffee she’d ordered for him. “It’s hard to imagine I’d be any good at it. That being said, I loved your dad – or brother, whatever Clark was to you –“ Her face had stayed neutral except for a little twist in her lip. “and now neither of us have him… I’d be honored if you’d let me try to be your family.” 

 

She asked instead of telling. She’d treated him like he had opinions, like he _should_ have opinions. Being around her and all her blunt ideas had taught him a lot about being a person, about expecting to be treated like a person. It was a shame to realize the minute he wasn’t around Lois, he apparently lost all that new knowledge.

 

When Red Robin had kissed him… Kon said it was okay. He didn’t think he was angry. He didn’t think he was hurt. How was he supposed to tell if that was honestly what he felt though? It could be that he was just returning to the same pattern as he always had, despite what he thought he’d learned from Lois.

 

Kon hadn’t really gotten laid since moving in with her. There was just less opportunity for it when he was expected to be in class or to sleep in the same place every night. When Clark came back, he’d moved in with Lois too. He started training Kon to deal with his powers, and hero better. There was even less alone time then.

 

Now, when there wasn’t anyone to notice he wasn’t home, when the person he was closest too wasn’t Tim fucking _Luthor_ , he couldn’t ignore the fact that he really, _really_ missed it. Not just kissing or coming, though both were pretty amazing. The best part, the part that just _hurt_ when it was over was that… warmth, that stupid happy feeling he just didn’t get other places. He missed another person telling him ‘ _yes’_ and _‘good’_ whether they knew his name or not. He missed shaking and breathing hard, knowing he was about to cry and that it was all okay.

 

When he’d been on his own, Kon would’ve helped bad people do bad things all day because they’d told him he was cute, because they seemed to want him for a little bit. Most people couldn’t hold Kon down, but people rarely had to. Kon would stay down. He wouldn’t even think to move, to say he didn’t want something, to say he wasn’t sure because being used by a person hurt less than being _nothing_ to that person. Maybe it was a choice, every time. Let someone else be the one to think, the one to get what they want so that he wouldn’t have to be alone. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He wasn’t supposed to be like this anymore. He had Lois, and Clark, and Kara, and Krypto. Even Ma and Pa Kent visited sometimes. He had a family who didn’t ask him to give anything up, who didn’t care that they didn’t _get_ anything from him, who totally didn’t have to pretend to like him or stick around him when he was a ball of messed up mystery powers or anything. He had a _family_ now and he was still drooling over this rando who’s face he hadn’t even seen, letting the guy tell him where to go and what to do. Letting him worry Kon over his mental health and his family issues. 

 

He thought of that moment when Tim had almost cracked Red Robin’s skull open, and Kon hadn’t been able to do anything about it. It couldn’t just be old patterns. The terrifying part of that split second hadn’t been that he would be alone. His heart had been jumping into his throat over the idea that someone was about to get hurt, and he wanted to stop that. So it was hero angst. Maybe. Shouldn’t he have to be good at hero-ing before he got hero angst? Red Robin hadn’t even needed a hero though. 

 

He’d been alright without a bit of help from Kon. He’d knocked Tim around like it was nothing, like he wasn’t a criminal mastermind with twenty kinds of black belts or whatever. It was probably a good lesson for him, being the powerless one for once. That didn’t make the idea of him passed out with zip-ties cutting into his arms any less of a punch in the gut though. Red Robin had to have thirty pounds and maybe ten inches on him. That wasn’t a fair fight.

 

What had Tim been thinking, trying to take on someone like Red Robin by himself? He was a smart guy. Couldn’t he tell the way that would end? He tried to think like Tim must have. He’d seen Red Robin kissing Kon across the room, maybe indistinctly. Kon didn’t know how long that had gone on, or how much Tim had seen before freeking out. Maybe he’d been watching the whole time. Kon had seen Tim angry before but he’d always stayed in control of himself, calculating, aim steady on his goal. That Tim running headlong into a fight he couldn’t win wasn’t in control. He was upset.

 

An echo of that first day they’d skipped out on a tutoring session to get gas station junk food floated through Kon’s head. He’d been upset then too. _‘Don’t do that.’_ Tim’s voice had been louder than usual. His eyes had had a little extra shine in them that made his glare somehow sharper. ‘ _Don’t call yourself that.’_

 

‘Slut.’ Tim had been angry at Kon for calling himself a slut, not for _being_ a slut. He’d very pointedly said there was nothing wrong with _doing_ those things. It was confusing, but Tim seemed angry… at the acts themselves, at the fact that Kon had felt guilty over them. He’d told Kon he was a good person, or at least, not a bad person. He’d told him (snarled at him) not to beat himself up like that. Had Tim attacked Red Robin _for_ Superboy, out of some sort of referred protectiveness over Conner Kent? There was an idea to make his head spin. 

 

Tim had been so upset. Had he been thinking about Conner Kent watching Red Robin kiss the hell out of Kon? Tim’s intense blue gaze flashed behind Kon’s own eyelids. He’d been watching. He’d been watching Red Robin suck on Kon’s lip. He’d been watching Kon shiver and open up for him. He’d been watching. 

 

Kon scrubbed his hands across his face in frustration. He’d thought he was an indiscriminate slut before. ~~‘ _Don’t call yourself that.’_~~   Now…  He _liked_ them. Both of them. He liked the way Tim cared to the ends of the earth about obscure math stuff. He liked watching him fiddle with his dumb old man cardigan sleeves. Despite himself, his mouth watered watching Tim in his badass body armor take down forces he shouldn’t be able to, the same way Red Robin moved and hit faster than Kon could follow. He liked that Red Robin bothered to leave helpful little notes about maintenance and smuggling rings in the cars he hotwired. He liked seeing how excited the guy had been to find that punny little pack of donuts.

 

Why’d all of these feelings start happening for a couple of jerks? Okay, so they were both decent sometimes, but they were also both _jerks_ the rest of the time. Why couldn’t the heart racing and goo-goo eyes and wanting to know every little bit of a person be directed at someone nice and not crazy and not evil and not friggin’ _made_ of secrets? Were those the things that were hot to him? Did liking people who were so messed up mean Kon was just as messed up? Maybe he didn’t deserve some nice, not-messed up person.

 

Kon turned off the tap and just stood there for a moment. Neither Tim or Red Robin were… nice exactly, but they both cared… a lot. They were doing what they thought was right. Red Robin had been trying to save him. He _had_ saved him. Tim thought he was saving the whole world. He and Luthor were going to start up a big bald utopia or something. Maybe Red Robin’s evil empire would have free pre-hotwired Hondas for all. 

 

Kon grimaced and reached for his towel. This really was a great example of that shit Tim always found a way to say: ‘just because someone’s a good person doesn’t mean they know what they’re doing.’ Kon wondered if Tim had ever thought of himself in that situation. Probably not. He was pretty damn confident that the sun showed out of Luthor’s ass.

 

The clothes Red Robin had given Kon did not fit. Their owner must’ve been a giant. The t-shirt sleeves went down to his elbows and the sweats would fall off if he did anything more athletic than going to bed. He’d have to watch out for that since, well, he didn't have an extra set of boxers and that was one thing he would definitely not borrow from Red Robin’s brother. Going commando was about a hundred times better than wearing your undies on the outside anyway (seriously, Clark). 

 

Glancing at himself in the cracked mirror, Kon sighed. This was not the hottest he’d ever looked… Which was okay because Red Robin had kissed him when he looked even worse – Which was okay because he wasn’t trying to get a kiss again because he didn’t need it and it was a horrible idea. He made a face at himself in the mirror… and in the stillness of that, without rustling cloths or running water in the way, noticed something weird.

 

It was quiet in the building. Kon realized that part of the unnoticed humming in the background had been a voice. Red Robin’s voice. Shit. Kon really wished he’d been paying attention instead of being all pathetic and self-absorbed. If Red Robin was talking to an empty room, that might be the sort of shit a night of sleep didn’t take care of.

 

Kon opened the door, wincing at its creek. Red Robin was back at the kitchen table doing inventory or whatever on his utility belts. He looked halfway like a soldier cleaning his rifle and half like a sad kid taking care of a sick pet. Guess he needed some comfort and this is where he got it. “Um… you okay?” Kon asked weakly. 

 

Red Robin looked up, blank for a moment. “Always.” He stood, folding the tools back up.

 

Kon frowned. “Dude, if there’s anything you need…”

 

“I need to take a shower.” 

 

“Oh!” Kon tried to laugh. Red Robin was standing in front of him, towel in hand now. This was horribly awkward. It probably won the awkward award, especially since Kon had been standing in the doorway for ten seconds thinking about how awkward it was and now it was more awkward. He grabbed his uniform and towel off the floor and got out of Red Robin’s path, at less than a run he was proud to say.

 

Red Robin took his belts to the bathroom. The belts with all the weapons he’d just been working on. Kon could take that as a sign that the guy mistrusted him, or he could keep on with the security blanket theory. The guy had gotten… cold again. Hopefully, it wasn’t because of Kon. His powers were pretty much back so it wasn’t like he needed to worry about himself. If Red Robin was angry at him though, it would make taking care of him a lot harder.

 

Kon stuffed his uniform and towel into the washer and closed it all up. His finger hovered over the start switch for a moment, but he should wait for Red Robin’s stuff. There wasn’t much Kon could use as a peace offering in this situation. Doing the guy’s laundry was possibly the best he had. Kon sighed. What was he gonna do waiting around here? He sort of wished they’d gone back to Lois’s. He knew where everything was there, and he could hang out with Krypto. He wondered if Red Robin liked dogs. Krypto was like, the _best_ therapist ever. Shit, even Tim had liked him after a bit.

 

He wasn’t taking Red Robin to meet Krypto. Even though the thought of it sort of made Kon grin, it would be a really stupid way to reveal everyone’s IDs.

 

Kon’s phone beeped at him with some alert. Wincing, he opened the washer, removed his phone from his uniform pocket and closed it up again. Jesus Christ, he was so dumb. “Sorry…” He just apologized to his phone. He was not making himself feel smarter.

 

The sound of hot water hitting tile started up and Kon’s skin prickled with the awareness that there was a naked ninja on the other side of the wall. He managed to turn his head before the flashes of x-ray vision made an appearance. Trying to leave the kitchen, he knocked over a chair that his dumb super-eyes had decided not to show him.

 

“You all right?” Red Robin called.

 

“Super.” Kon cringed.

 

He made it into that first room they’d come in through just as the x-ray vision calmed down. Once again, great timing eyes. The room was actually really cozy. He hadn’t noticed at the time they’d come in, with all the lights flashing in his eyes. There were books stacked all along the perimeter of the floor like a library that had skimped on its shelving budget. A cushy looking couch was pushed against the back wall. One more example of their ‘host’s’ selective good taste. Kon looked through the books, but they all looked like the sort of thing he had to read for English class, so, not totally appealing. Red Robin’s brother he wasn’t actually related to who got into room breaking fights and owned a library of smart people books must be as weird as… well, Red Robin.

 

Kon dropped onto the couch and sighed because yeah, it was as nice as it looked. Something on the opposite side of the room came into focus, like one of those optical illusions. Huh. There was a front door. In the same room as the window they’d come through. Half of it was blocked by piles of books, but still. It looked like it probably opened onto a stairwell connected to the other apartments, and of course there would have to be other apartments in a building this size. Kon felt stupid realizing he hadn’t considered anything much after the lights had turned on.

 

He slumped to his side and put his feet up on the armrest. Hey, he’d already taken off his shoes and everything! He opened up a phone game he usually liked, but couldn’t really concentrate on it. It wasn’t because of Kryptonite wooziness. He was actually sort of amped at this point, but it was the frustrating kind of energy that didn’t actually get anything done. Not that there were things to get done in this place. It was someone else’s apartment. 

 

His character died a gory, green-jello-like death and all his points fell out of him. Kon blankly watched the little animation then, instead of trying to get his points back, he flipped to texts. Tim’s frowning rainbow ID icon was easy to find. ‘Hey _’_ he typed, tried to expand upon, and then sent as it was. 

 

12:35 AM

Conner: _Hey_

 

Well, that was smooth. Now he was going to be bored again, possibly till the morning. Tim could be asleep at this time of night. Maybe he wouldn’t want to talk to Connor Kent at all right after Superboy (well, really Red Robin) screwed over whatever his plan had been anyway. Shit, maybe he wouldn’t hear anything from Tim till tutoring Monday. The prospect of a whole weekend with Clark off-planet, Lois at that conference in New York, and Tim being all introverted was just reaching to extinguish the last happy bit of Kon when his phone buzzed. Kon dropped it and had to pick up the couch (thank you returning super-strength) to get it back.

 

12:36 AM

T: _u ok?_

 

Kon brightened. Tim was awake, and he _wanted_ to talk. Kon tapped a message back a little too excitedly.

 

12:36 AM

Conner: _No. I’m being threatened by massive amounts of boredom. So, so much of it._

 

12:36 AM

Conner: _Like, sooooo much boredom. I’m surrounded by Shakespeare and Silvia Plath and stuff._

 

12:36 AM

Conner: _Please tell me you’re doing something not boring._

 

12:36 AM

T: _Surrounded? Y?_

 

Kon thought for a moment. He had probably complained to Tim that Lois and Clark never picked up a book unless it was non-fiction, which was a completely different kind of nerdy than this place. If anyone would notice a tiny little discrepancy like that, it would be Tim. He could do semi-truth here.

 

12:37 AM

Conner: _I’m crashing at someone else’s place tonight. Turns out the owner is a giant nerd._

 

12:37 AM

Conner: _That would be, a giant who is a nerd._

 

12:37 AM

Conner: _I’m not talking about Clark for once._

 

12:37 AM

T: _y r u crashing? L and K being weird?_

 

Kon was halfway through typing ‘ _when are they not?’_ when his phone dinged again.

 

12:38 AM

T: _My offer still stands. If you need a place to stay you can stay with us._

 

Shit. He’d gotten Tim all worried. The super-genius did that sometimes, getting stuck in circles. Kon guessed all that brain power had to go to _something_ when he wasn’t plotting. There was no way he’d ever step foot in Luthor Tower, but he didn’t want to tell Tim that. The offer was sweet, really. It was nice even.

 

12:38 AM

Conner: _Thanks, man. I know :) It’s not a big deal though. I just got caught without a ride and this guy said I could stay here. I’m going home tomorrow._

 

12:38 AM

T: _uh… stranger danger?_

 

12:39 AM

Conner: _Lol XD “stranger danger”?_

 

12:39 AM

T: _seriously, are you staying with someone you don’t know?_

 

12:39 AM

Conner: _It’s Ok. He’s a good guy._

 

_‘You’d like –‘_ Kon deleted that bit before sending. Tim and Red Robin would not get along, even if they were like, herding puppies together or something non-evil like that.

 

12:40 AM

T: _tell me where you are._

 

Well, that read like an order. Kon wasn’t… okay with that.

 

12:40 AM

Conner: _Dude, now you’re the one being weird._

 

Kon’s phone started buzzing in his hand, the screen filled with Tim’s ID image. Kon accepted the call.

 

“Dude, I don’t know the last time someone under thirty actually _called_ me.” Kon felt like laughing. It was probably getting in his voice. Tim was such an old man sometimes. 

 

“Conner…” Kon’s smile dropped. Tim sounded weird, a little shaky.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. I’m fine, I’ve just had a weird few hours…” Kon could hear him swallow on the other end of the line. “and I sort of need to know you’re safe?”

 

Oh God. Kon flashed back to checking Tim’s pulse. He’d been fine. Kon had thought he’d been fine. Maybe something happened with that leg he limped on sometimes. Maybe something had happened that Kon hadn’t seen. Maybe it was just hard to feel secure after Red Robin took a block of C-4 to your plans.

 

“I know I’m being ridiculous, I just… Please let me come get you. You don’t have to stay at Lex’s. I can take you to your apartment, or… or a hotel or something, wherever you need.”

 

Well, that made Kon feel a little warm inside… and a little sick with guilt. “Tim…” He cared so much about Conner’s safety, it made him all messed up like this. Kon sort of wished he could tell him ‘I’m okay. I have superpowers.’ 

 

Then again, maybe Tim _didn’t_ care. Maybe this was just his way of having control over something when everything else had fallen apart. Kon told the pit in his stomach that was fine. Either way, Tim had Luthor and Mercy. He wasn’t alone. Red Robin was.

 

“I can’t. I’m really sorry but I’ve got to stay here.” Kon worried at his lip a little. “He won’t do anything to hurt me, but he… uh…” Kon wasn’t going to say he was a crazy possible mob/cult member thingy. That would not help the situation. 

 

“Conner, this isn’t reassuring. This is _really_ not reassuring.” Crap. Tim sounded worse like his throat had gotten tight. Kon could just _see_ his white knuckles gripping his phone.

 

“Okay, okay, so we were drinking a bit and honestly I think he had too much.” Zesti that is. “He was saying all this stuff about his family fighting,” which Kon was still _very_ weirded out by, “and I just wanna be sure that he doesn’t hurt himself.” … which was a little too true. Kon hoped the worry in his voice didn’t get Tim all freaked out again. 

 

“Okay,” Tim said, steadying himself, “this sort of sounds judgmental – and I really don’t mean it to – but are you still drunk?” 

 

“Wh –” 

 

“Is there any way your decision to stick around this mentally unstable guy _alone_ is being impacted by your own temporarily… reduced cognition?” 

 

Kon looked at the floor even though there weren’t eyes to avoid across from him. He was talking about being drunk. Being drunk messed people up, that was the point, but it really felt like Tim had just called him dumb, because _Kon_ couldn’t make a decision like this. _Kon_ didn’t have the capacity.

 

“I _drank_. I was never drunk.”

 

“…Oh.” Tim probably thought that made it worse, that he did such a stupid thing while sober. Fuck it though. Kon knew he was doing the right thing. If Tim was going to keep going around, trying to take over the world, there was no way he was going to make Kon feel guilty about trying to take care of a person who needed help.

 

“Listen, I’ve got as much 911 on my phone as everyone else does. If things go south, I _will_ call them but you can’t stay on the line waiting for that.” Kon sighed. “It really sounds like you need some sleep. I’m sorry I called.” He might as well go read some fucking Silvia Plath after all. From the lectures he’d half listened too in class it would fit his mood.

 

“You didn’t.” Tim’s voice was quiet now, and small. “I called you, remember?”

 

Kon frowned. That was right… technically.

 

“I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I don’t have many friends and I’m afraid if you get hurt I’ll have one less. I really–“ Tim’s voice broke “–I really don’t want to hurt you myself.”

 

Kon bit his lip. “It’s okay.” Kon knew that Tim didn’t mean to call him dumb, not really. He knew that Tim wasn’t apologizing for what he did to Superboy, that he wouldn’t ever apologize for that. Tim probably didn’t even know what he was saying sorry for. “I hope whatever happened tonight turns out okay. Go get some sleep. Please.” 

 

“…See you Monday?” 

 

“See you Monday.” Kon ended the call.

 

He was really regretting that first ‘hey’. The ensuing conversation had pulled too many things to the surface. Kon felt giddy knowing Tim was thinking about him, including him in that exclusive group he called friends. He was cold with anger over the insult he would keep hearing no matter what Tim said to try and take it back. He was guilty over the break in Tim’s voice. He’d probably been peacefully drifting off to sleep before Kon had given him another thing to feel out of control over. Now the guy was going to stay up till dawn trying to figure out something that didn’t need any figuring out.

 

Kon pushed himself off the couch. It wasn’t so comfortable anymore. He wandered into the kitchen to open drawers and close them again, catch a chill from the mini fridge, close that too. He wasn’t actually looking for anything but still managed to feel disappointed when he didn’t find it. He was staring at the spatula again, TTK probing around the bullet when the shower shut off.

 

Kon’s hand flew to the phone in his pocket guiltily. Red Robin did not appear like a vengeful ghost in the doorway and ask why Kon was telling a Luthor all about his family issues. He was still getting dressed, and in any case, didn’t have super-hearing (well, probably didn’t). Kon just needed to calm the fuck down. He puffed out a sigh at the spatula.

 

Red Robin opened the bathroom door in a completely non-ghostly way. Kon flipped a mental coin between hilarious and adorable. Red Robin’s clothes clearly also belonged to the giant who owned this place. He was only a few inches shorter than Kon, but he looked as small as Tim with sleeves down to his fingertips and the drawstring on his sleep pants barely keeping them on him. He’d taken off the beenie at some point, and his hair was really kind of long. Damp bits of it were sticking to his cheeks. It must be hard to fit all that fluff under the cowl of his uniform. Did he keep it that way because he was busy not sleeping and time traveling, or because he knew how _good_ it looked around his angular face? The second option didn’t feel likely, but Kon liked the idea of this tough, practical guy deciding to keep just one messy thing because it was nice. 

 

“Did you wear that mask in the shower?”

 

Red Robin shrugged. “Problems don’t usually wait for me to finish shaving. Why not be ready for them.”

 

“So, ninja fights while naked are okay but taking your mask off isn’t?” Kon wasn’t going to giggle. He had more self-control than that, really.

 

“Well…”

 

“Oh my god, you’ve naked ninja fought, haven’t you??” Okay, the glee was showing through. No stopping it now.

 

Red Robin walked over to the kitchen table and started laying out his belts in neat rows again. He wasn’t going to answer. He was definitely not going to answer, but that was okay because Kon still had the image in his head to sustain him through any future humorless times.

 

“Technically.” Oh dear God, confirmation. Kon was going to cry with laughter.

 

Red Robin still wasn’t warm exactly. He still had that creepy thing going on, but it didn’t feel like he was angry anymore. It was a relief. 

 

Kon wiped a tear from his eye and when he looked up, Red Robin was right there. “Here.” He was holding something small and cylindrical out to Kon. A candle? Or a short pen? 

 

Kon reached to take it. “What is it?”

 

“The Kryptonite Luthor used on you.”

 

Kon dropped the tube, lurching back into the counter. Shit, maybe he _was_ angry. Red Robin caught it and held it out again. “This capsule is lead lined and very difficult to open by accident. It won’t hurt you.”

 

Kon did not take it. He’d completely forgotten, hadn’t wondered where that poisonous thing had gotten to since Red Robin had lifted it off him. At first, he’d tried to be suspicious, to be cautious. He’d hidden Lois and Clark’s identities from this guy. He’d really _tried_ to be smart but he’d stopped thinking of Red Robin as a stranger, as a threat. He wanted to be his friend, to protect him from himself, to know what the shit was going on with his family. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, if he’d remembered where that little bit of death had gone would he have ever let his guard down? 

 

“Why do you have that?” Kon asked in a steadier voice than he would have thought he could muster.

 

“So that Luthor doesn’t.”

 

“Why are you giving it to me now?”

 

“Because… I haven’t earned your trust, and I want to.”

 

Kon looked into Red Robin’s eyes, his microscopic vision flashing for a second to fill Kon’s view with iron blue iris and the steady, deep, black of his pupil. Kon believed him. There was a lot he didn’t know about this guy that he really needed too, but at that moment he knew that there wasn’t a trick, that Red Robin wasn’t waiting for an opportunity to use him, that each bit of care he’d shown Kon was real. He felt so close, an arm’s length away with that weapon held between them.

 

Red Robin looked down at the capsule in his hand, away from Kon. “…and it took this long to get it off the belt.” His speech had gotten a little more rapid. “These are really not designed to be removable. I’m thinking of changing that, though I’d have to give each independent unit it’s own security system which might increase weight quite a bit.” Kon grinned. The badass ninja was nervous. “I could probably use inductive –“

 

Kon covered the capsule with his own palm, fingers wrapping around Red Robin’s, sending a bit of warmth through his TTK field. The babbling stopped and Red Robin looked up at Kon again. “Can I kiss you?” Kon asked through his out of control smile.

 

Red Robin just stared at him. It started to get awkward and Kon’s smile slipped. He tried for a light expression, but it may have shown a little too much of the cold clammy feeling Kon was starting to get. He loosened his hold on Red Robin’s hand, trying to come up with an apology that wasn’t too pathetic, but suddenly Red Robin gripped back.

 

“You aren’t affected by the Kryptonite anymore?” 

 

Kon shook his head. “I’m not.”

 

“You aren’t in danger anymore?”

 

“I don’t think so?”

 

“You know… I’d still protect you if you were angry about earlier? If you didn’t want to do anything with me, I’d still do everything I could for you. You know that, right?”

 

“I…” Kon hadn’t known. It made his heart stutter a bit.

 

“I’m not angry.” He looked down at their linked hands and up again, squeezing a little. Red Robin had the same exact expression on. He knew that wasn’t everything. “I was thinking for a bit, maybe I should be, but I’m not. I thought maybe I shouldn’t have liked it, that I shouldn’t want to kiss you again but I did, and I do.” Kon felt himself standing a little taller. 

 

“I don’t think either of us really made a decision last time, but I’ve just made mine now. I’ve decided it’s okay that I like you.” He grinned again, just a bit. “It’s okay that I want you. If you decide that you want me too, well, that’d be awesomely okay.”

 

Red Robin was doing that not talking thing again, but he was breathing heavier and his pupils were blown. Kon had a pretty good feeling about that reaction, so he just stood still, and waited.

 

“Seems like you’ve got everything figured out.” Red Robin finally said in a thick voice.

 

“I mean,” Kon shrugged, “enough for now I think.”

 

Red Robin stepped forward until Kon was pretty sure he could feel the heat coming off his body. There were little scars all over his face, just like Kon had seen on his hands earlier. The longest one was so shallow it was barely perceptible. It curved over his cheekbone from under the mask like a tear in the wind. Rows of barely there marks on his chin looked like road rash from another life. A tiny dip at his temple was almost exactly where a mole would be on Tim’s face.

 

Red Robin put an arm to either side of Kon, anchoring them both against the counter. He pushed himself up a little on his toes and Kon leaned down a bit. For this kiss, Kon’s senses were all at one hundred, not flickering like before. He could feel the little catches of Red Robin’s slightly chapped lips and invisibly short stubble on his own lips, making the soft parts of him feel even softer. When he put his fingertips to Red Robin’s jaw, brushing back into his hair, Kon could hear the strands colliding right next to the rush of blood in both of them. When he took a breath in, he smelled it again: Red Robin’s sweat under the soap they’d both used. Red Robin was so strong, so dangerously agile, but their short little kiss had still been an exertion for him. Kon drank it all in, feeling himself breathing harder too, feeling his heart beat just as fast as Red Robin’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how a few chapters ago I warned that the consent issues would be addressed later? This was it. If I missed something problematic, please let me know.
> 
> Update: a couple of commenters pointed out some things that were still problematic. I agreed with them on a good number of things, so it's sort of open-ended right now. Call it a learning experience :)


	7. Kon Totally Knows First Aid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve got a few bruises healing up.”
> 
> “Do you need an ice pack or something?” They could still make out with an ice pack. Totally. Kon wiggled his eyebrows “You’re probably gonna have to lose the shirt if we’re doing first aid.”
> 
> The rated T version of the fic by the same name. At least, I tried to make it T… 
> 
> If you read the E rated fic instead, check the end notes of this for an important edit I made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to keep this fic rated T and post explicit scenes separately. If you want to read the explicit version, it’s the next fic in the series also called “Kon Totally Knows First Aid.” If you read both, (first of all, you flatter me terribly) I’d love to know if one carries the psychological/plot elements better than the other. Thanks!
> 
> Warnings: 
> 
> 1) Graphic injuries unrelated to the mild masochism.
> 
> 2) I took 3 pages of smut out, buuut it still may be more than a T rating. Please let me know if you feel a particular part can’t be in a T rated fic. 
> 
> 3) Last chapter also got some discomfort from a reader or two about the identity issues and not so healthy coping mechanisms. Totally valid. They’re going to talk about all that stuff, but they haven’t yet. Thank you guys for the feedback! You’ll see influences from those comments soon.

There was a little sound. Kon didn’t register it at first, but his hand had tightened around Red Robin’s, pushing the edges of the capsule into his palm. “Shit –“ Kon broke off the kiss and brought Red Robin’s hand up to assess the damage. “I’m sorry, man. I forgot…” about the Kryptonite. Again. The Darwin Awards should be calling any minute.

 

“It’s fine.” Red Robin’s voice was all breathy and hot in a way Kon felt all down his body. His face was just a little bit pink, not crazy red like Kon’s got. “I’m into it.”

 

“Huh?” Kon’s eyes snapped up from Red Robin’s lips.

 

“Pain. I like it.”

 

“Oh.” Kon’s voice was probably kind of breathy too. “That’s…” not completely unfitting for a ninja-vigilante type dude. Kon squeezed his hand around Red Robin’s. “Awesome.” He was going to have to bite those gorgeous lips red.

 

Red Robin stopped him with his free hand between them when Kon leaned in. “We should probably put the thing that can kill you somewhere else first though.” Oh. Yeah. Kon took the capsule and tossed it in the drawer with the bullet spatula (so he’d find it again even if he didn’t remember this time. See? He could think ahead sometimes). He grabbed Red Robin around the waist, pulling their bodies back together.

 

“We’ll have to – “ Kon kissed him. It was just a little touch, but Red Robin put a hand in his hair, turning Kon’s head to make it deeper, to lick inside when Kon opened his mouth. The guy liked pain but he was no submissive. “Later…” He muttered against Kon’s lips. Kon moved to kiss his jaw, his neck, grazing skin with teeth. “It’s enough for now.”

 

Red Robin’s hands were rough with calluses. They tickled at the back of Kon’s neck where Red Robin’s hand was still resting, and at his hip rubbing little circles just over the band of his sweats. Kon didn’t have any callouses himself. Every inch of his skin was strong enough that it couldn’t be abraded by anything on earth, and thus it was still clone-baby smooth. Human hands always felt different on Kon’s skin than his own did.

 

“Hey…” Red Robin’s voice rumbled under Kon’s mouth. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

 

“Yeah?” Kon asked.

 

“Pull my hair?”

 

Oh, the guy knew what he wanted. That… was seriously hot. 

 

Kon complied, wrapping his knuckles in the strands at the base of Red Robin’s head. Red Robin sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. Kon wondered in the back of his mind if Tim would ever grow his hair like this.

 

He bent to Red Robin’s throat to lick, and bite, and hope for another sigh like that. “ _Ko-_ “ Red Robin sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. Kon pulled back, looking at the raised pink marks he’d been making on Red Robin’s skin. 

 

“Sorry. Again.” He winced. “I don’t really… can you tell me how much pain is good?”

 

Red Robin leaned against him, probably with all his weight. “Yeah… I have an equation for it.” Kon laughed. “I’ll show you for next time.”

 

“Wait, you actually did math for sex?” And did he say ‘next time’?

 

Kon felt Red Robin’s smile against his neck. “What can I say? Algebra makes me hot.” And Kon was so not going to be able to get that out of his head during tutoring Monday. He wondered what kind of face Tim would make if he repeated that to him. “You’re doing pretty well without it though.” Red Robin did a little rocking thing with his hips. “Just don’t break skin, and be careful of my ribs.”

 

“Ribs?” 

 

“I’ve got a few bruises healing up.”

 

“Do you need an ice pack or something?” They could still make out with an ice pack. Totally. Kon wiggled his eyebrows “You’re probably gonna have to lose the shirt if we’re doing first aid.”

 

Red Robin did something under his mask, probably raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t need it.”

 

“Really?” Kon pouted. “I was starting to get into the idea of playing nurse.”

 

“Hm…” Red Robin’s mouth opened against Kon’s neck and sucked like he would give Kon a hickey matching his own. He could be at that for a while. Not that Kon minded.

 

“Can you take your shirt off?” Red Robin sort of deflated. Kon felt it in his body against him. “Or… not. Do you not want to?” Oh shit. Did Kon fuck up somehow? Was he just going to fast? Tim’s voice echoed in his head _I haven’t even kissed anyone._ Red Robin had _definitely_ kissed people before Kon, enough to get _really_ good at it, but maybe… he hadn’t done much else? Maybe he was too busy being a vigilante or was brought up in a ninja monastery or something.

 

“I do want to, but…”

 

“It’s okay if you don’t!” His hand was still in Red Robin’s hair. Crap. He let go, trying not to seem too awkwardly hasty about it.

 

Red Robin put a warm hand to the side of Kon’s face, making sure he was looking at him. “I _do_. I want to do everything and anything you can think of.” He smiled like he had before, at the warehouse. Kon wondered if the sadness at the edges had been there then too. “I’m just not looking forward to your expression when you see my scars.”

 

Kon furrowed his brow. He supposed there could be worse marks under his clothes, deeper, more discolored ones that whoever stitched him up hadn’t been as careful to hide, but… “You know you’re stupidly hot, right?” 

 

Red Robin made a surprised little sound. 

 

“No, seriously! Like, your face is gorgeous, and your hair is all soft and nice, but without knowing any of that, without even seeing what general shape you were under that cape, you’re super hot. You took down like, twenty goons at that warehouse and you made it look easy. I _have_ super-speed and you still move faster than I could think. You’re seriously, stupidly sexy and I can’t imagine scars taking away from that.” On top of it all, he was ridiculously _cute_ too. Kon wasn’t going to say that out loud though.

 

Red Robin swallowed. Looking down, he leaned away from Kon and started pulling up his shirt.

 

“Oh shit!” 

 

Red Robin looked at Kon reproachfully and dropped the hem of his shirt. There _were_ scars. They _were_ worse than the ones on his face and hands. Some of them were sort of terrifying, but they weren’t what surprised Kon. He pulled the shirt back up, staring at Red Robin’s ribs. He’d said he had a few bruises. Kon wouldn’t have described them like that. 

 

There were harsh red splotches all down his left side, fresh enough and close enough to the skin that Kon had to touch them to make sure Red Robin wasn’t _bleeding_. Fading green marks extended even farther under that. Kon scooted around to see his back was just as bad. His x-ray vision flashed on for a moment, for once having a good sense of timing. “Dude, these are broken! Like, not scars, broken _right now_. Jesus. You carried me with these. How are you not, like, _crying_?”

 

“It only looks bad because he hit something that wasn’t done healing. It’s fine.”

 

“You mean you went _into_ that fight with cracked ribs??” And Tim had kicked him, right _there_. Tim had a powerful kick. Kon had seen him break down a door once or twice. He’d seen the force of it going all the way through his opponent. 

 

Red Robin shrugged. Kon was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be able to do that with broken ribs.

 

“Okay.” Kon took Red Robin’s arm (the right arm) and made a beeline for the room with the mattress.

 

Red Robin sighed. “You don’t want to kiss anymore, do you?”

 

“I never said that.” Kon guided Red Robin down to lay on his uninjured side. “Stay.” Red Robin looked skeptical, but did.

 

The mini fridge in the kitchen didn’t have food in it (or a can opener, as Kon had discovered earlier). It had some vials of medical looking stuff Kon didn’t understand and thus was not going to use, but was mostly filled with gel cold packs. He grabbed an armload of them in case Red Robin had a broken leg he’d forgotten to mention _too_.

 

Back in the room, Red Robin had twisted around to watch him through the doorway. That probably wasn’t helping anything. Kon flipped off the kitchen overhead so that the only light in the apartment was the lamp in the room they’d entered through. It bounced off the walls and tiled floor to make it a sort of soft, directionless glow. Kon could see okay in it. Red Robin might be worse with his human eyes or better, with the vigilante night vision he’d been showing off earlier. 

 

Returning to the bed, Kon knelt next to Red Robin’s back, hoping he’d stop contorting like that. He set the cold packs down on the bed and pulled out his phone.

 

“Who are you calling?”

 

“No one. Setting a timer. Humans can get frostbite in twenty minutes, and if I do this right, we should be distracted for _way_ longer than that.” He leaned over Red Robin, purposefully close, to set his phone at the head of the bed where it would be easy to see the timer go off. Kon felt fingers trailing up his side. He pinned the offending hand down next to Red Robin’s face with a mock glare. “Be good.”

 

“I don’t know what came over me.” Red Robin said this in the single least convincing tone of innocence Kon had ever heard. He snorted in a completely unsexy way.

 

“Dude! Don’t make me laugh, I’m going for a whole dom-y thing here.”

 

“Oh, is _that_ what you’re doing?” Red Robin had started a grin, a really gorgeous grin that made tiny little reflections in his eyes dance. “Do either of us really have the patience?” Probably not. Kon leaned down to kiss that grin, being careful not to put his weight on the other boy. “Mm…” Kon felt the hum through their lips.

 

Red Robin made a little mewl of complaint when he pulled away. It was Kon who was grinning now, so big it might fall off his face. New goal: collect every sound he could from the silent ninja guy. Business first though. Kon hauled one of the cold packs over. He traced where he thought he remembered a bruise under Red Robin’s arm. “Here, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Red Robin conceded. 

 

“I’m going to move your shirt again, okay?”

 

“Okay.” TTK slipped around Red Robin and the bed, hardly disturbing his sprawl as the shirt made its way off of him.

 

Red Robin hissed in a breath when the chill touched his skin. Interesting, he didn’t give a shit about his broken ribs, but the ice brought out a reaction. Kon lay another cold pack next to the first, and then a third until all the fresh bruises were covered. Red Robin held himself like he was trying not to shiver. And that, that was no good at all.

 

Kon leaned over the last cold pack he’d placed, just above his hip. He nuzzled and nipped the skin at the edges of the cold pack, getting a sweet little inhale from Red Robin.

 

“This is so weird.” Red Robin said through a full body shiver. 

 

“Weird… good?” Kon asked blowing gently over the pink spots.

 

“Weird I’ve never been this cold and this hot at the same time.” He clenched his fist in the blanket between them as he said it. 

 

Kon smiled. “Weird good then, huh?” 

 

A strand of hair fell over Red Robin’s cheek. Kon was so busy watching it, he almost didn’t hear the quiet request that came with it. “Can you… take off your shirt to?” 

 

Kon smiled, ducking his head to put a kiss on one of the bites and stood. His awareness of his body turned all the way up, he could feel little peach fuzz hairs catching in between the threads of the shirt then bouncing back to tickle his skin. He could feel the slight chill of the room’s still air like gale force winds against each newly exposed bit of himself, a feeling that wasn’t at all diminished by the thought that Red Robin was watching him, his gaze touching everywhere the chill did.

 

The shirt hitting the floor was loud against a background of nothing but their breaths. Red Robin’s eyes didn’t follow it though. They had stayed on Kon, gratifying in their heat. 

 

Kon had a good looking body. He knew it, even if his own observations hadn’t told him so, he hadn’t met many people who _hadn’t_ confirmed his attractiveness. A weird sort of sourness woke in him sometimes. He’d remember that, not only did he not work for the thing that people liked about him, but it wasn’t even his, not entirely. Kon’s body had been _Clark’s_ body first.

 

Did Red Robin know that? There was a Superboy in his timeline, so there must be a Superman too, right? Did Red Robin know his Superman? Would he notice the similarities even while they were doing something so personal? Kon couldn’t afford to care about those things. If he started, he’d never stop. That line of thinking ended with one, single, real person and it would never be Kon.

 

Red Robin was looking at him, at his face. Had he spaced out for a minute there? Kon smiled at him, an unconvincing _‘Wrong? No, nothing’s wrong’_. 

 

He lay down, this time in front of Red Robin in a mirror image close enough to feel the other boy’s exhale brush over him. In the dark, he couldn’t be positive, but he thought there was a blush across Red Robin’s face. Kon lay the backs of his knuckles on Red Robin’s face feeling how warm it was, how soft it was around the tiny ridges and dips of scars and microscopic grit of stubble. He slowly smoothed that tantalizing bit of hair back behind Red Robin’s ear. He could just barely see Red Robin’s adam’s apple bob in the subdued light. 

 

When he closed his eyes Kon thought he would miss the glints of light shining off of them, changing when he smiled, but then he could see the slightly deeper shadow between his brows of someone absolutely involved in what he was doing. That was pretty awesome too.

 

Sometime after that, after Red Robin said with a smirk “I think you’ve given me a new kink,” and after Kon felt every bit of his skin come awake to his touch… Sometime after that, he heard his own voice. 

 

“Fuck me.” 

 

He said it without thinking, without remembering Red Robin’s ribs, or that he hadn’t even fingered himself in nearly a year. “Fuck me, please, Red. I wanna feel every bit of you. I want…” His hand was in Red Robin’s hair again. He hoped he wasn’t gripping too hard. Red Robin wasn’t making a sound so it couldn’t be too hard. Maybe not hard enough? He wasn’t making a sound, what did that mean?

 

Kon moaned in disappointment when Red Robin pulled away. How on earth was the guy managing to _stop_ in the middle of all of this?

 

“We’ll need lube.”

 

Oh.

 

Before Red Robin could finish getting up drawers shot out of their places in the dresser, haphazardly propelled by TTK. The bottle of lube they’ed found earlier fell from it’s hiding spot and skidded over the floor. It tripped on the edge of the mattress becoming a projectile.

 

Red Robin caught it before it hit him in the face. A beat passed. God, Kon was such a dork. He’d totally freaked Red Robin out hadn’t he?

 

“Oops. That was, um… I have this thing called tactile telekinesis and um…”

Red Robin looked from the bottle in his hand to Kon. “I know… So you’re a little excited about this, huh?”

 

Kon facepalmed. At least the guy wasn’t scared but… fuck. He really was a dork. Didn’t he use to be somewhat smooth? He mumbled an apology into his hand. 

 

There was a warm touch on Kon’s arm. “Hey…” Fingers stroked and then circled his wrist. Kon let them pull his hand away from his face, but couldn’t really look at Red Robin even in the dark. “Don’t be sorry.” He kissed the corner of Kon’s lips. Some tension left Kon’s body. He turned into the kiss. “If you’ll remember…” Red Robin sucked Kon’s lip in between his own. “I’ve gotten pretty excited too.” Kon opened his eyes to see Red Robin looking down at him. His hair was falling to tickle Kon’s cheek like the point of the cowl had earlier that night. 

 

Red Robin was pretty, despite all of the scars and the weird secrets, on top of the strength, the skill, and the drive of a vigilante. He was scary, and sad, and cool, and cute all wrapped up into one person. He’d moaned for Kon to pull his hair, do more, do it harder and he’d patiently given him soft, comforting, little kisses when Kon was embarrassed. 

 

Red Robin grinned, catching Kon’s gaze. “In fact, I’m just happy to see it’s reciprocal.”

 

“Oh my god…” Kon’s voice cracked. “Are you still talking about math?” He cracked up. Red Robin actually seemed to take a moment before he got it, a confused look turning into an eye roll and then his own little laugh. Kon leaned up for a sloppy kiss, made sloppier by the occasional giggle from one of them.

 

The timer on Kon’s phone went off in the middle of it all, startling both of them. Kon blanked the screen while Red Robin tossed the cold packs to the floor. “Okay, you were thoroughly correct. I completely forgot about the time limit. I’ve got to say though,” he poked at one of them, “I don’t think they’re designed to stay cold during intense cardio.”

 

“Ooh, ‘intense cardio’ huh? mind if I get a plaque engraved with that?”

 

Red Robin kissed him again instead of answering and pushed him back down to the pillows. “Never done this part before. Need to concentrate.” He leaned back.

 

“Wait,” Kon said, “Am I taking your virginity?” Holly shit, Kon had been right back in the kitchen. He didn’t know whether to be proud of himself or what. He’d been the one to suggest… almost everything. Shit. Was he like, peer-pressuring or something?

 

Red Robin huffed a little laugh. “I’m not new to sex.” He sounded like he was telling kon ‘I’m not new to breathing’. Kon was a bit embarrassed, but the feeling was far overwhelmed by relief. “I’m just used to reversed rolls.”

 

That was a completely different kind of inexperience, not a kid who maybe didn’t know what he was agreeing to. Red Robin had  _been_ with people before, was expanding rather than starting off. But still… Double checking…

 

“Do you want to fuck me?” Kon put maybe forty percent of the sultriness he could muster into the line. He didn’t want it to sound as awkward and self-conscious as he felt, but the question needed to sound like a real question too. “I could do you, suck you off, or just kiss you till we come…” Kon let his leg brush across Red Robin’s, bringing back a little contact, a little thrill (for both of them hopefully). “Tell me what you want, Red. I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

 

Red Robin let out a shaky breath. Kon felt successful. “All of the above?” _Fuck_ yes.

 

“Yep. Sounds good.” Kon gave a thumbs up. Was he blushing again? Fuck, he didn’t care.

 

Red Robin grinned. “Cool.” God, he was so pretty. “I assume you’ve bottomed before?”

 

“Safe assumption.” Kon rolled his hips a little.

 

* * *

 

In the middle of everything, Kon’s eyes fluttered open. Red Robin was watching him intently, studying, memorizing. If Kon hadn’t already been hard, that look would have done it.

 

He had topped for other people before, of course. Men and women had all seemed pretty satisfied. He’d never felt what he felt in himself with Red Robin in any of them though. It had been good mostly, great a lot of the time, but Red Robin was teasing out all the details from the primal background, making them more vivid. Kon was far from inexperienced, but this felt new.

 

“You're so beautiful right now.”

 

“You have really good night vision, don’t you?”

 

“Take the compliment.” Red Robin said with a little smile in his voice .

 

Red Robin talked him through it, like there was no rush at all, like it was completely reasonable to go slow, like Kon had never done this before… maybe he hadn’t. Not in the same way. He didn’t touch himself like this. He didn’t take his time with sex. Knowing that he had just learned how, how to make himself feel like this, tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, any time he wanted it. Knowing that he had real control over his body. Kon took a deep, even breath.

 

“Thinking about baseball?” Red Robin asked, quietly glowing.

 

“Uh-huh.” Kon confirmed. “It’d be great if you’d fuck me now.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

Red Robin was a fucking athlete. He was strong, elegant, and controlled all the way to the end when he crumpled against Kon, crying these amazing sounds against his neck. On the way to that wonderful end, Kon made sure to grip Red Robin’s hair, to scratch his back, to bite a little when they kissed, and to remember each of the gorgeous sounds Red Robin gave him in return.

 

After a moment in which Kon was almost sure they would fall asleep still interlocked, Red Robin sleepily extricated himself. He kissed Kon again on his way out of the bed. The fossett ran in the other room. Then Red Robin was back, wiping a warm towel across Kon’s stomach and thighs, kissing each spot where their well earned mess had been. Kon let his fingers drift through the other boy’s hair as he did so, down to his shoulders to draw soft patterns over the marks he’d left. When they were both clean, Red Robin sprawled next to Kon on the futon, one leg over his, face buried back into that same spot on his neck. Kon wriggled to fit them together better and dragged the thin blanket over them both with a twitch of TTK.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the uncompromising happiness he was feeling that moment was artificial, a bubble of emotion caused by all the dopamine, and oxytocin, and shit, the things that accompanied sex whether it was a good idea or not. He knew that this amazing person just barely snoring next to him was still really a stranger. He knew he’d felt like this before, and been kicked out a few days later.

 

He was still happy though. He was still going to enjoy that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you only read this version:
> 
> The only thing I could absolutely not fit in with a T rating was Red Robin being suspiciously good at doing things Kon liked without prompting.
> 
> If you only read the E rated version:
> 
> “Wait,” Kon said, “Am I taking your virginity?” Holly shit, Kon had been right back in the kitchen. He didn’t know whether to be proud of himself or what. He’d been the one to suggest… almost everything. Shit. Was he like, peer-pressuring or something?
> 
> Red Robin huffed a little laugh. “I’m not new to sex.” He sounded like he was telling kon ‘I’m not new to breathing’. Kon was a bit embarrassed, but the feeling was far overwhelmed by relief. “I’m just used to reversed rolls.”
> 
> That was a completely different kind of inexperience, not a kid who maybe didn’t know what he was agreeing to. Red Robin had been with people before, was expanding rather than starting off. But still… Double checking…
> 
> “Do you want to fuck me?” Kon put maybe forty percent of the sultriness he could muster into the line. He didn’t want it to sound as awkward and self-conscious as he felt, but the question needed to sound like a real question too. “I could do you, suck you off, or just kiss you till we come…” Kon let his leg brush across Red Robin’s, bringing back a little contact, a little thrill (for both of them hopefully). “Tell me what you want, Red. I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”
> 
> Red Robin let out a shaky breath. Kon felt successful. “All of the above?” Fuck yes.
> 
> “Yep. Sounds good.” Kon gave a thumbs up. Was he blushing again? Fuck, he didn’t care.
> 
> Red Robin grinned. “Cool.” God, he was so pretty. “I assume you’ve bottomed before?”
> 
> “Safe assumption.” Kon rolled his hips a little.

**Author's Note:**

> I have tumblr? If y'all wanna talk more? RaspberryBrain.tumblr.com


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